Ballad of the Dead
by raven-ink
Summary: Rachelle is an 18 yr old girl living in 1906 who has run away from her father and now lives with her aunt in London. Now she has to deal with dresses, corsets, and upperclassmen. What happens when love, mystery, and murder find their way into the plot?
1. New Life

A/N: This is different so I would not mind feedback. Feel free to review! Just a warning, there isn't the usual AU names (Rachel, Richard), it's Rochelle and Emmett. I hope you don't mind.

New Life

It had been three weeks of my new life and still the past daunted me. I lay awake on my bed, studying the canopy above me. The nightmare was still fresh in my mind and eyes. I could not determine if the dampness rolling off my cheek was sweat or tears. I dared not close my eyes lest the images paint themselves on my eyelids. I threw the heavy cover off my body, letting the cold air touch my bare skin. I needed fresh air. I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stumbled to the window, clutching the pane for support. The window was already open, letting in the dark morning air. I leaned out the window and inhaled a deep breath of winter. The sweat and tears froze on my face and left me shivering. I relished the open feeling of not being confined to a room. Ever since an incident that occurred not too long ago, and incidentally was the cause of all my nightmares, confined spaces have caused deepest fear within me.

The almost eerie quiet of the morning hours hung above the city. The buildings and streets had a blue tint to them as the sun was not up yet. The room I now occupied looked over the street below, which would be crowded in the swing of the afternoon. I looked back over my shoulder at my quarters. If it weren't for the lingering dream I would have smiled to myself. I very much enjoyed my new life. Over night, I had jumped from lower class farmer's daughter to upper class niece of an Uncle and Aunt who made their wealth over the years from investments overseas. My room was proof enough of the transformation. The room consisted of a dark wooden canopy bed that bore draped plum curtains over the top and sides. The heavy comforter was yet another luxury that was new to me. It was plum as well and stuffed with down feathers from a goose. The fabric was most soft and provided warm winter nights that I had never known before. The furniture matched my bed, what with the dark wood. There were two bed side tables on either side and a mirror and vanity opposite the bed. A table with a porcelain bowl took space by the door so the maids could easily have access to it. To the far left in the corner was a small desk that was without a chair, which had a leg missing. The chair was being repaired by the family's carpenter. The room lacked art or much décor of the liking because this room had been vacant and unused before I stumbled onto the threshold, begging for refuge.

If I could, I tried to avoid that memory. If I kept a memoir I would surely leave a few things from its pages, this would be one. But my mind had defied my wanting and left me reminiscing of the night I came to be here.

After the incident, the one that was the seed of my nightmares, I took what I could and eloped from my countryside home and the tragedy that would have befallen me if I stayed. I knew of a sister of my mother who lived in the city. I only knew where she resided because when I was but a young girl I remembered hearing my father cursing her and her household in a drunken rage after he found out she and my uncle moved into another rich folk home with the money he envied and believed should be his.

He blamed our low class in society on me because if my mum was still among the breathing than her rich sister would share her wealth with us. The only reason she would dare send any means of wealth to my father was because he was married to my mum, who passed on when birthing life to me.

I had tried at least seven houses, retreating with shame after each failure. Eventually, I found the right one. I had knocked so carefully on the door, trying not to sound too urgent or rude. A maid answered it within the third knock. She took one look at me and where suspicion had occupied others, worry was in its place. I asked if this was the residence of Mr. and Mrs. Hatton. The maid nodded with a smile and ushered me in out of the cold. I remember worrying that my aunt would not believe me that I was her sister's daughter for she had never lain eyes on neither me, nor I her. The moment she saw me, tears swelled in her eyes and her cheeks flushed as she embraced me. Not one word of doubt of my identity crossed her lips.

"You like just like my dear sister!" She cried pulling away to get another look at me. I was tired from the journey I probably showed little emotion. She didn't seem to notice. My aunt called in Uncle, a much more solemn man, and left a few seconds to dig up a forgotten picture of my mum that was taken before my existence.

"She has Ellen's eyes. Look at those pretty grey eyes!" She exclaimed holding the aged photo up to my face for everyone to see.

"And your hair! You have her raven black hair. Oh, how she favored her hair! Your nose is a wee smaller but your lips are just as rosy as hers, I remember. You have her heart shaped face, too." She cooed excitedly.

The woman was not too far from the looks of the picture herself. Her hair much grayer and her face was not as smooth. But her nose was a duplicate of the woman in the picture. Not until later did it register with me that _that_ was my mum. I finally had a reference of her. I finally could imagine her with accuracy. If my mum was half has animated as my aunt was, I was sorry I missed out on the optimism growing up; it was surely of lacking in my father's household.

After they calmed down, more so my aunt than anyone else in the room, the maid showed me to the guest room, which was later to be my quarters.

The next few days were a blur of excitement as Aunt Becky rushed to move me in. My uncle was less of a participant as he spent most of his days in his study. I don't remember, but I had to have told them about my reasons for coming to them with just short notice. They took me in graciously and changed my surname. I was now a part of the Hatton family.

A week later and I was just starting to get the smallest bit acquainted with such a different lifestyle. My aunt ordered me to start caring a parasol because my skin was darkened from living on the farm. She assigned a young maid to me, Ms. Peterson. She was not but four or five years older than I. Never had I even considered that I would have a personal maid and it was awkward at first. After all, I had always dressed myself. I felt like a hypocrite, having Ms. Peterson brush my hair every morning and night and waiting on my beckon call. I did not know how to speak to her or how to ask for anything. Ms. Peterson laughed when I shyly asked if I could decline her companionship.

"Ms. Hatton, I am no slave. I get paid to take care of you." She smiled. "There's no need to feel guilty about my services."

A bird's song brought me back to reality. I looked out the window and the sun's rays were begging to reveal themselves against the blue sky. I walked back to the bed, pulling the covers back over me and closing my eyes. No images. I sighed in relief and turned onto my side, waiting to catch some more sleep before my day started.

It was Ms. Peterson who woke me. She opened the door, letting in the outside light. I sat up, and watched her move about.

"Good Lord, why is the window open? It's far too cold." She scorned, moving across the room with her arms wrapped around her. She reached out and pulled the window shut, latching it.

"Um…I got…warm last night." I half lied. I did not wish for her, or anybody, to know my childish fears.

She looked at me with doubt, or perhaps suspicion, in her eyes. She laid the back of her hand on my forehead.

"You don't feel ill…What say you?"

"I'm fine, really. But thank you, Ms. Peterson." I said with genuine gratitude.

I watched as she continued with her chores.

"I told you before, you can call me Hannah." She smiled, dumping some steaming water into the sink by the door.

"Fine, an eye for an eye, you have to call me by Ro, not Ms. Hatton." I grinned, stretching my arms.

"How about Rochelle?" She tried.

"No, the name does not suit me." I explained. I did not find my given name agreeable.

"Well alright. Ro it is, but not in the presence of Mr. or Mrs. Hatton."

I got out of my bed for the second time this morning and washed my face. The warm water felt good on my skin. I dried my face off on a fresh towel.

"Come now, I have to measure you for an evening gown for tea time. Mrs. Hatton needs it before next week so I have to do this hastily." She said helping me on a small stepping stool that she retrieved from the foot of my bed.

I listened as Hannah said the measurements aloud. She measured my arms first and then my torso, chest, waist, and lastly my legs.

"Your aunt asks it to be a sage green. Do you have a preference?"

"No. Green is well." I said stepping down.

"I will be back in a few moments to help you with your corset. I put some new clothes in your closet." The dresses and other garments of clothing that I acquired during my new life here were store purchased, so Aunt was worried that they wouldn't fit me perfectly. Apparently in this class of society buying things from a store was for middle class. Upperclassmen had personal tailors, their maids. I defiantly did not mind if they were store bought, though. I was accustomed to much less in my former life.

My eyes widened in awe as I opened the closet, revealing assorted colors of fabric that were mine. As soon as Hannah left, I took each one out and admired them individually. There were four. One was a deep purple. The other was an overwhelming shade of yellow and next to it was a soft rose color. The last dress was a gorgeous dark blue, almost navy. I returned them except the blue one. Deciding that the blue dress was an immediate favorite, I began to change into my undergarments quickly before Hannah came back.

I threw off my nightgown, letting the cold air press up against my skin, making the hair rise on my arms. Just as I slipped the last garment on, Hannah knocked.

"Come in." I said welcomingly, accepting her implores to enter.

She slipped into the room with a corset in hand and some long ribbon in the other. I hadn't quite gotten used to the damned things, and I was still coping with the lack of air I was admitted. It surprised me when Aunt Becky told me that the corsets now were designed to let you breathe more. It made me cringe at the thought of what kind of breathless hell the girls before me had to go through. Aunt also explained to me the purpose of these unholy things, saying that they were structured to thin the waist to a span of a person's hand while thrusting the hips back. The front of the corset was straight, which resulted in the wearer's bust to be forced forward. I soon learned that vanity was of top priority in this society.

I turned around, gripping the bed's post to brace myself. Hannah wrapped the corset around my torso and fiddled around with the string and then warned me to get a good grip as she began stringing it up.

"So, do you have a dress picked out?" Hannah asked, trying to mask my gasps for air as she further tightened the corset.

"The blue one, it's beautiful." I fought to keep my voice steady as she gave it another tug.

"That's a fine choice, Ma'am. Now we just need you an evening gown."

"Why must there be so many occasions? Half my day will be spent dressing and undressing." I immediately wanted to grab the words and place them back in my mouth. Guilt stabbed me in the back. I had just complained about changing my clothes to many times when a few months ago… I was lucky if I had anything to change into the next day. I was ashamed of myself.

"I am sure the alternation between classes has done a toll on you."

"It's just… incredibly different. My not having a mother to teach me proper etiquette will cause future problems." I hadn't an issue with talking about my mum. I never knew her anyway, so I felt no pain when talking of her.

"Well, dear, just remember to smile. I don't know what your past life was like, but be sure to have reverence in your manner of speaking." She advised, giving a good jerk behind me. I tightened my grip on the bed post.

"Thank heaven for books." I whispered to myself. If it weren't for the books my mum left behind, my vocabulary would model itself after my fathers, which wasn't much more than angry words.

Silence inherited the room. I would not have minded but I needed something to distract myself from the uncomfortable sounds of my gasping and the strings growing taught with every pull.

"So why did you decide to be a maid?" I asked ill at ease. After it left my lips, I realized it wasn't the most respectful question and I wished I had just bit my tongue, again. I sighed in frustration at my consistent mishaps.

"I didn't mean that like being a maid is a bad thing." I tried to cover up my tracks. I was relieved to hear Hannah laugh. Her melodious laughter was becoming quite familiar to me.

"I know you didn't mean it like that. I decided to be a maid quite a while back. See, when I was little, my family needed some extra money, so my mum signed me up for some experimental vaccine." She took hold of the strings in one hand and then leaned around me and held out her free arm. "Pull my sleeve up."

I looked at her, worried about what I was going to find. It wasn't that I was scared; I just felt pity for her even before I saw what was covered. I slowly pulled her sleeve up.

"Everything was fine until a month later when my hair began to fall out. I become increasingly ill. We found out that I had Eczema, patches of my skin inflamed and took on a rosy hue. A week later it spread. Now I have permanently discolored skin on this arm, my stomach, and my leg."

I looked at her, worried that I just opened a painful door to her past. She showed no sign of pain in her mentality.

"I'm sorry." I whispered.

"Please, miss, you have no need to feel sorry for me. My scarred skin forced me to find a low key profession and your Aunt graciously let me work for her and be trained under her maid's supervision."

She tugged one last time before tying it off. I ran my hands up and down the corset's piped fabric.

"I will do your hair and then you have to go downstairs for breakfast. Your aunt and uncle are waiting." Hannah announced as she sat me down at the vanity. I looked in the half length mirror. Within minutes my hair was pinned up into a bun. My loose ringlets made it hard for Hannah to prepare a neat bun. I didn't mind, I rather my hair looked messy because it was not me to be so pristine. Some ringlets were too short to reach back and they hung elegantly, framing my face. I must say that fixing up my hair all pretty every morning wasn't such a bad thing. I can see why my mum was so fond of her hair. I never had any reason to appreciate mine. I assure you, I was not vain, merely amazed in my discovery of the luxury of being vain. However, I could most defiantly do without the corsets and layers of dress that I had to sport.

Hannah helped me into the blue dress, making sure my hair did not come undone as we struggled with the cloth. When we had the dress on properly Hannah excused herself to complete some other early chores. I had the room to myself. I looked in my full length mirror. I was a completely different person than what I was accustomed to. I was so elegant looking. I fancied it and hated it at the same time.

I had been wearing only one dress before we purchased new ones. That was my aunt's old one. It was a bit small on her so she figured it would do best for me. Still, we had to use a pin or two to adjust it.

The blouse of the dress I was wearing draped over my shoulders and drooped where the waist band hugged me. The sleeves were tight at the top and flared out at the bottom towards my elbow were it ended. The skirt of the dress brushed the ground with ease. Pearl white lace adorned the hem of the skirt, blouse, and collar.

I slipped my feet into my muddy pair of shoes that had not been replaced, yet.

I descended the stairs quietly, hoping to not attract attention to my late entrance. As I hit the last step, the wood cried out in defiance. I stopped, rolling my eyes at the irony. I took a deep breath. As I walked in, Aunt and Uncle watched me take my seat. Uncle went back to eating immediately after my arrival but Aunt kept her watchful eye on me as she discreetly chewed her breakfast..

"Good morning to you, dear," She smiled.

"G 'morning, Aunt Becky," I said with just as much good humor. "Uncle Andy."

"How was your night?" She continued.

"It was fine." I lied.

"I see Ms. Peterson dressed you in one of the new dresses. Soon you'll have a complete wardrobe." Aunt Becky claimed.

I smiled and took a bite of my breakfast. If I thought that being an upperclassman affected my looks, the food I had access to was amazing. Sausage, eggs, fruit, finely prepared meat, wine, and many other foods were becoming a part of my daily diet.

After breakfast, Uncle Andy kissed me and Aunt on our foreheads and took refuge in his study.

We left the table to be cleared. Aunt led me to the coat room, handing me a coat I was barrowing from her. It was heavy and grey. It didn't match my dress, which I had no problem with, but my Aunt started criticizing it.

"Why are we putting on our coats?" I asked confused. We had nothing planned today as far as I knew, and I highly doubted we were wearing the coats for the thrill of wearing them.

"I wanted to show you around London, or rather around our district, so I told Ms. Peterson that we would take over her errands for a while." She explained as we exited the house. We stepped out onto the small porch. A small flight of four stairs connected the porch to the pathway that lead through a short front yard and out a high iron gate. "We have to go by the bakery; Mr. Anderson will be delighted to meet you. We'll do that last so the bread will be fresh and we can have it for lunch when we get home. We have to pick up the chair for your desk at the carpenter's. And Andy wants a newspaper so we will stop by the store on the way back and get one for him."

Her wide brimmed hat brushed my cheek so I stepped to the side, trying to evade the monstrous hat. A long feather adorned the hat along with three smaller ones.

We walked beside each other as we made our way down the cobblestone street that was visible from my room's window. The sun was up now and shown his rays over us, casting short shadows. As I predicted, the street became increasingly crowded. People brushed passed and others pushed past. A few children squeezed themselves between Aunt and me. I laughed at their innocence while Aunt cursed their manners. The city's air was much thicker than the country's and it was apparent that the factories did a toll on the freshness.

I listened to Aunt comment on the high number of the lowerclassmen who were "loitering" about. I hadn't even noticed, or cared to, count the number of well dressed people or poorly dressed people. My eye wasn't trained to catch these details. Perhaps if I was brought up in the higher part of society I might have. I was exceedingly grateful of my Aunt's gracious acts of taking me in off the streets of London and housing, clothing, and feeding me, but I must say. Her nose seemed to be higher than her forehead most of the time.

I found myself leaving the one sided conversation that seemed to interest my aunt and pondering the character of my uncle. He was much quieter than his wife and he seemed like a man who could be mighty cold if he wanted to, but could also be standing there with his arms spread out in a welcoming manner just as boldly. He seemed to have his wits about him and more organized than Aunt. All in all, I was lucky to have such relations. At least they came from my mum's side and not my father's.

I was so caught up in my head that I almost missed Aunt Becky turning into the doorway of a shop. I quickly recovered and took a step into what would be the next step into my new life.


	2. Rude Entrance

Rude Entrance

As we stepped into the shop, the scent of freshly shaved wood filled my nostrils. Sod lay on the floor in small piles as if someone had gone through and swept up the layers. There was a desk on the other side of the room that bore a moneybox and a bell that sat at the corner. Aunt Becky walked straight up to the table and palmed the bell, bringing forth an abrupt sound that rang throughout the shop. A man appeared from the back room that was located in the back corner. He was aged, with a thick brown beard that was speckled with grey. He was tall and well built, especially around the arms.

Once he saw my aunt he smiled a toothy grin and a twinkle appeared in his eyes.

"Mrs. Hatton! How gracious of you to bless me with your presence! What brings you to my humble shop?" He chuckled. It seemed obvious that these two were long time friends.

"Mr. Hawkins, you are looking as well as any! I have brought my darling niece with me to pick up the chair." She replied with equal warmth. When she mentioned me she made a hand motion towards my location. Taken by surprise, I gave a clumsy curtsey that I immediately wished I had not done because Mr. Hawkins gave out a deep laugh that made my cheeks pink.

"And what is your name, dear?" He said still showing his teeth.

"Ms. Ro Hatton, sir. I'm pleased to meet you." I greeted, smiling.

"Ro? How unusual…"

"Rochelle is her full name. She does not fancy it however." Aunt replied for me.

"Oh well, then… So how about we talk business." He said, changing the subject.

"Ah, yes. The chair: its leg was to be replaced." Aunt reminded him.

Mr. Hawkins nodded in recognition and turned toward the opening of the back room.

"Boy! Come to! Bring the mahogany vanity chair." The man ordered with a yell.

We could hear rummaging and then a couple of huffs as the second man made his way from the back room. All we could see coming through the doorframe was a pair of legs, for the upper half was obstructed by the chair the man was struggling to hold.

"There you are, my boy!" Cried Mr. Hawkins.

The chair-wielding man bent down to relieve himself of his load.

"This God damned piece of wood weighs more than I! It's foolish to have such a furnishing just to sit on to look in the mirror. Vanity is the face of the rich—" He stopped as he stood. He had not realized we were there which explained the rude entrance.

"Emmett! You are the foolish one! Ladies, please forgive me." The father pleaded.

His son, Emmett, looked at us somewhat mortified but regained composer and stood tall. But I saw right through him; I knew he regretted his tongue.

"Forgive me Madame and Mademoiselle, I have no excuse and humbly ask for your forgiveness." He recited. The apology seemed to be just strings of shallow words and further added to my disagreement of this pompous young man.

That's when I noticed that Emmett looked to be of my age. He was almost as tall as his father and shared his dark brunette hair, which was a little ruffled from work. Emmett's arms were just as big as his father's, giving me the impression that carpentry might give the arms a good workout. I scoffed at that impression based on Emmett's poor performance in carrying the chair. All three of the occupants looked at me, curious as to what provoked my sneering at a time like this.

"Oh, I… Um… had to sneeze. The dust is getting to me…" I lied. I knew it was something little more than pathetic but I was under pressure.

Aunt and Mr. Hawkins both returned to their business transaction, but Emmett just starred at me. I could tell he saw through me… just as I saw through him. I looked away, fixing my gaze on a floorboard.

"God bless you…" Came Emmett's voice after a while.

I looked up surprised at his delayed reaction. " Pardon?"

"You sneezed so I said, 'God bless you'." He explained rather slowly.

"And so I did. Thank you, Mr. Hawkins." I turned on my heels and proceeded towards the wall, wanting to get away from the rude 'Emmett'. The wall was adorned with shelves that held various wooden figurines and such. They were lovely. All of them looked as if lots of care had been put into their creation. Every last one was shaped perfectly and sanded to perfection. I saw a small wooden bird made from the darkest wood I had ever laid my eyes on. I carefully picked it up and examined it from within my palm.

I jumped at Emmett's voice as he spoke from behind me, "It's a raven."

I did not answer, not knowing what to say. I had no intention with making polite small talk with that brute.

"I finished that one yesterday." He said taking it from my hand and holding it up in his own.

"You made that?" I asked, cursing myself for reacting.

"I whittle as a pass time and sell whatever I make here on this wall."

I smiled rather rudely and retreated to the desk where my aunt was finishing up with Mr. Hawkins.

"Again, I am so sorry for my son's behavior. In fact, Emmett will personally help you carry this chair home, won't you?" Mr. Hawkins offered glaring at his son.

"Yes, father." Emmett responded. He retrieved the chair and headed for the door where he waited for us. My aunt seemed pleased with this punishment and walked out the door without even acknowledging the boy carrying her chair. I, on the other hand, was disappointed. I wanted nothing more than to be rid of him. Now I had to put up with his non-sense for the whole walk home.

"We will be stopping by the bakery first and then we shall head home." She announced.

Even though I disliked this inconvenience, I was sure Emmett loathed it more. I looked over my shoulder just to make sure. He was carrying the chair over his head, which cast a shadow over his entire face. His complexion was focused and his eyes were on me, starring at me. I snapped my head forward, regretting my action. I could feel his eyes on my back. It was so intense that I could not help but assume that the emotion that instigated such intensity was hatred. I wanted to get away from his eyes, but I could not pass aunt because I had no idea where I'd be going, so there I was stuck in the middle.

We pushed through the crowded afternoon streets, enduring push after push as hurried people plowed through. I kept watch for aunt's monstrosity of a hat as a way of not straying from the path. I wondered why she had not made me wear one or carry a parasol, not that I wished for such things.

At one point, my toe got caught on the uneven surface of the cobblestone and I fell forward. A hand shot out and grasped my arm, saving me from my rocky fate. I turned to see Emmett with one hand balancing the chair on his head and the other on my arm, and his eyes still starring at me. I blushed and quickly turned around so he might not have seen. I continued on my way, focusing on the ground so I would not trip again. It confused me because I thought he hated me or at the very least disliked me, but then he risked dropping the chair to catch me. My palms were growing clammy and my heartbeat was starting to pick up.

"Here, we are." Aunt announced ducking into a shop door. I entered with her, Emmett stayed outside with the chair.

The bakery was warm and smelled of flour and yeast. The oven was lit at the back and let off a glow. There was a line of people waiting to put in their afternoon orders. I looked out the shop window to see Emmett leaning against the glass with his back to me. The chair was at his side and out of the passerby's way.

"Oh, for heaven's sake! Ro, be a dear and go tell that boy to get off the glass. He's going to ruin it." Aunt asked in a worried tone.

I nodded, dreading my having to speak to him, even if it was just a few words. I exited the shop cautiously and slowly approached him. He was still focused on the world passing by and had not noticed me so I shyly took my place in front of him. This position made it painfully obvious how much taller he was than I. It was then that he finally noticed my presence. He did not move to straighten his posture or anything so I just continued.

"Aunt would like me to tell you that you should stop leaning on the glass lest you scuff it or worse." I explained looking up at him, trying not to look as timid as I felt.

"She would, would she?" He asked smirking.

I nodded. He was acting so nonchalant that it was killing me.

"Tell her that she can scold me herself and not to send you as the messenger pigeon."

"I will not do any such thing, for your sake." I said haughtily.

"Oh, for _my_ sake? Well, then, I should be thanking you, shouldn't I?" He retorted just as haughtily.

I stopped for a second. What was I doing? I had not wanted to even say the one sentence in the first place and now I had started to banter. And I was a savvy enough girl to know that neither of us was going to give in. We were both stubborn, that much I knew.

"Indeed, you should be, Mr. Hawkins. In fact, you should be kissing my feet."

"No amount of your graciousness could ever make me do such a vile thing, Ms. Hatton." He smiled, raising his eyebrows in a challenging manor.

I opened my mouth to throw something back in his face when he interrupted me,

"Speaking of feet, it seems you have stepped in a puddle and your skirts are all dirtied up, how tragic." His sarcasm was thick, but I knew what he was trying to do and he made one fatal flaw. He assumed that I was a stereotypical upper-class girl. He wanted me to be embarrassed or outraged about muddying up my garments. I could have merely ignored it, playing it off like I simply did not care, but I wanted to take it a little further for the sake of my amusement.

I lifted my skirts just enough so I could see my shoes. I was indeed standing in a pothole filed with muddy rainwater, so I smiled at him. Then I gave a little hop to my step and landed in the water again, splashing him, and myself, the former had not been intended.

"I love the rain and whatever it leaves behind. _Puddles_ do not torment me, as they may you." I said the word 'puddles' as if they were the smallest nuisances on this planet.

"As I can see. You have proven me wrong and I wish you the best of luck in facing your aunt with this matter."

I had not thought about her. She would most certainly have a fit about this new dress being already stained by mud.

"What matter?"

I spun around to see Aunt with a loaf of bread in her arm.

"Um… that—" I raked my brain for an excuse.

"—That I accidentally splashed Ms. Hatton with a little puddle water." Emmett intervened. I turned to look at him with surprise. He was looking passed me at my aunt with sorrowful eyes. When aunt looked at my skirts and then abruptly turned away continuing on our route, he winked at me. He then proceeded to pick up the chair and follow her. I was still in shock and did not know what had just happened. I was confused and flattered. I didn't know what to make of the mysterious Emmett Hawkins.

We returned home just before noon. We stood on the porch, waiting for the door to be opened for us. A familiar face opened the door.

"Hello Mrs. And Ms. Hatton." Greeted Hannah. She smiled at Emmett and the stepped aside so we could enter. She took the loaf from aunt and left the room.

"Ro, go show Mr. Hawkins to your room so he can unload the chair." She instructed as she hung her coat and left us.

I hastily took off my coat and threw it on the hook.

"This way, Mr. Hawkins." I said walking in front of him. I lead him down the hall and up the stairs. I walked backwards up the steps so I could make sure Emmett wasn't struggling too much with the chair. Once at the top, I showed him to my quarters.

"Just place it over there." I said pointing to the chair-less vanity table.

He heeded my instructions and carefully relieved himself of the chair.

We headed back downstairs and I saw him to the door. He stepped outside but stopped to face me.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Ro."

A/N: I know this was rather short, sorry. I believe the next one will be just as short or a tad longer, so just a little heads up. Don't worry the plot gets more exciting. This is only the beginning! Review please!


	3. Fog

Fog

The next morning, I sat at the vanity table. I was looking in the mirror but not at my reflection. I was focused on the small wooden raven that was perched upon the flat surface.

'_Emmett must have left it when he was in here to return the chair.'_ I figured. I had found it in the small drawer that was located on the side of the Vanity. Emmett had hid the figurine until he slyly slipped it into my drawer when he got to my home.

I watched its reflection as if it was about to spread its stiff, wooden wings and fly out my window. That thought made me turn my gaze to the half open window. It was a colder morning and the sky was blotted with grey clouds that seemed to just barely scrape the tops of the buildings. How I longed to climb to the roof and sit among the cool clouds, but I was sure that was not permitted as a young lady of the upper class. But then again, who had to know? Was I not at liberty to have a little time to myself? As a small pang of excitement rushed through, I decided that some fresh air would do me some good so I fetched my robe and slid my arms into it and made for the door.

I knew that there was an attic and I supposed that it lead to the roof. It took a few wrong turns down some corridors, but I discovered the small staircase that lead up to the attic. The door was rather loud as I opened it, as if it had not been used for some time. Stale air rushed out as the door opened. Stepping into the small roof I immediately felt a sense of loneliness; perhaps this room had been solitary for a long time. It had certainly gathered enough cobwebs and dust to convince me of such things. I searched for the possible door and came up with nothing until I spotted a square of sunlight that seemed to be outlining a door of some type. Indeed it was! It was a small trap door that led out onto a small portion of the roof. From there I climbed up the slope of the Attic's roof and found a reasonable spot near the top where no obstructions blocked the gentle breeze that had carried the clouds here in the first place.

As I sat there with my un-brushed hair flying about me, my thoughts drifted to my former situation. That was the danger of being alone; you had no one or nothing to distract you from your thoughts so there were no limitations. And try as I might to not travel back to the past, that was what happened.

All of a sudden I could feel the sensation that I had felt only months before. Panic first, then the tears, followed by screams. It had been no use screaming because all it did was bounce around in the coffin I was confined to and then reenter my own ears. I could feel the splinters getting lodged under my nails as I clawed at the wood. Blood twisted down my wrists as my hands bled out. The smell of dirt and blood was my only companion. The futile screams only making my throat raw and my ears ring. My legs were folded at the knees for the wooden prison was too small for me to have the luxury of full extension.

I brought my hands in front of my face. I had been avoiding this moment ever since then because I did not wish to see the scars. My fingertips were lined with small white scars and the side of my hands where still slightly bruised from pounding with my fists. In a flash, I could see the blood pouring from the wounds with the small slivers of wood protruding from beneath my nails and cuts. A scream rose in my throat as tension built up inside. I clenched my fists together wishing to hide the evidence of my past. I wished that the scars would go away. Oh, how I wanted them to be healed!

I looked out at the horizon, lined by the buildings of this crowded city. The skyline was smeared with fog and as it got closer it seemed to disperse into the grey clouds that loomed above me. I began to think about the contrast of that memory and my present situation. I had gone from low in every way possible with - dared I even call him - a father, to upper class lady with a family and future. I used to be the dirty farmer's girl who wore the same ragged dress since she had been ten. Now, I was a young lady that had to wear corsets and fine dresses. I was bathed every week and had a personal maid available at my will. I had gone from one extremity to the other practically over night.

I thought I felt a droplet of rain splash on my nose so I decided to retreat to the house. I was not about to soak myself and make it obvious were I had been. I returned to my room and found Ms. Peterson making the bed.

"Good morning, Ms. Peterson." I greeted trying to sound happy.

"It is, isn't it? I think I shall enjoy running my errands today, as long as it holds out on the rain." She replied shaking out the sheets.

"I can assume that you fancy the fog and overcast weather."

"I do! It is so beautiful." She sang, smoothing out the comforter and rearranging the pillows.

She helped me into my day dress and then helped me twist my hair into a bun. Still the ringlets too short to make it in the bun fell around my face.

Breakfast that morning was delightful and silenced my stomach. Aunt announced that that afternoon we were attending a party at the Williams' and that we were to go shopping for a suitable dress for me. I found nothing wrong with my day dresses and evening dresses, but apparently there was a third category of dress unbeknownst to me. The tea dress was strictly for tea parties.

"It will be phenomenal! This is your first tea party so I shall get you acquainted with the 'rules'." Aunt said joyously.

I smiled, trying to hide my saddened disposition. I had no want to attend such events. It just meant more pressure to act and to lie. Aunt and Uncle thought it best to keep my past in the past and did not wish it to speak about it with others. This did not disappoint me, for speaking, or even thinking about it, let it live on in my mind when all I wanted was for it die. So, Aunt always introduced me as her niece that had been living with some cousins of hers until then.

After breakfast, we got ready to leave. I put on my coat and helped Aunt into hers. She wore no hat that day, to my relief. We left the house, stepping out into the cool late morning air. It was not raining as I had thought it was. But the sky was still thick with fog.

This time we took a carriage to the dress store. Aunt was a little uneasy when we crossed the threshold because upperclassmen were not accustomed to be seen in stores. They had all their dresses and such made personally for them by the personal maid. But due to the time factor, she was forced to lower her standards.

A tall slender woman came to help us. She did not smile and was dressed in a simple brown dress. Aunt dismissed her, assuring her that we could do just fine on our own. We proceeded to look for a tea gown. Aunt explained that tea gowns were for relaxing, a thought that I enjoyed very much. She said that ladies were not required to wear corsets with them because they were loose dresses that were usually empire.

She found a ruby red dress that was gathered just below the bust with a deep purple sash. I found another empire gown that was off-white with a light green sash. The skirt was heavily decorated with beadwork. Aunt decided on the latter gown and thanked the woman before we left. As we climbed back into the carriage, Aunt discovered her coin purse to be missing. She excused herself in a hurry and left me in the carriage by myself to see if she had left it in the shop. The carriage's cabin was small and dark with windows on wither side that let in the fresh air and much needed sunlight.

I felt the carriage dip to one side as Aunt boarded for a second time. The door opened and in climbed the second passenger; only it had not been Aunt Becky. Emmett was now sitting across from me with one of his crooked smiles. He wore a white collared shirt that was similar to the one he wore the other day. His hair was still messy, as if the gentle breeze and played around with it.

"What the devil are you doing in here?" I whispered hoarsely, afraid Aunt might hear me despite her being in another building.

"I saw you and your Aunt leave that shop and I thought I'd say 'hello'." He explained still grinning.

"Well say your 'Hello' and then leave me be. If Aunt returned to you in here, she would go daft!" I said looking out the window to make sure she was not on her way. I opened the door to show him his way out, but he only crossed his legs and continued to watch me with a twinkle in his eye. He was having a smashing time watching me go mad.

"Get out, Mr. Hawkins!" I demanded, hoping the driver could not hear us.

"Ms. Hatton, you seem to be happy to see me as I expected. What say you about going out for a walk on this fine day?" He continued ignoring my pleas for him to take his leave.

"You are mad if you think I would say yes. I cannot do any such thing without upsetting my Aunt, which I refuse to do."

"What purchase have you made?" He asked, changing the subject.

I was beginning to get mighty frustrated. I was not able to handle him right then.

"It's a gown for the Williams' tea party this afternoon." I answered hurriedly.

"What a coincidence! I am going to that very tea party at the… what was the name again?" He said leaning forward like he was getting really interested in what I was about to say. I did not move and merely glared at him from across the small area that separated us.

"You cannot fool me, Mr. Hawkins. Your joke finds no laughter with me and I would be very thankful if you saved us both some grief and left."

"Please, call me Emmett. And –"

Just then, the sound of my Aunt's footsteps on the cobblestone interrupted Emmett. My eyes grew wide.

"Well then, _Emmett_, would you please get the hell out!" I whispered, pushing him out the door on the opposite side of my Aunt's footsteps. He left without any physical or verbal struggle. He stood outside as my Aunt opened the door to the opposite side. I gave him a desperate look that begged him to leave. He smiled, bowed and then winked as he turned and walked out of our vicinity. Aunt climbed in, shutting the door behind her.

"I've got it!" She exclaimed, holding up her coin purse as the carriage gave a lurch as it started home.

A/N: So I realize this is moving slower than normal fanfics, but in my defense I am just trying to build the plot and characters for your pleasure! :D Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter and I am appreciating the reviews, so thank you!


	4. A Challenge

A Challenge

Ms. Peterson was helping me into my new gown. I was so relieved to not have to wear the corset. I had decided that the tea gown was my most favorable out of all the dresses. The fabric was lighter and flowed when I moved and the empire waist made movement limitless. My hair was in a simple twist that fell over my left shoulder. Aunt had given me a velvet choker that Ms. Peterson helped put around my neck. As I stood before the mirror, I suddenly felt self conscious. The dress was cut rather low, showing past my collar bone. I did not like to look at myself; I felt so 'on display'. That's when I started thinking about the tea party. It was a social event that consisted of only the wealthy. And the wealthy tended to lack humility and they focused on appearances. The appearance that stared back at me from the mirror was nothing more than a farmer's daughter with a pretty dress on. I was not an upperclassmen, and I was fretting about the possibility of people seeing through me.

"Is something the matter?" Ms. Peterson worriedly asked.

"Not at all, I'm just lost in my own thoughts." I smiled awkwardly.

She smiled at me and then turned to take her leave. She stopped at the door and turned towards me.

"Your Aunt wishes you to be downstairs promptly at 4:45. The carriage leaves at 4:50." She explained. I nodded, letting her know that I understood. She left quietly, leaving me and my reflection alone.

I started to think over what I'd say and how I would act. I went over hypothetical situations and planned how I would handle them. Before I knew it, I heard Aunt calling me downstairs.

"Coming, Aunt!" I called back, turning away from my dreaded reflection.

The ride to the Williams' was a blur. I could hear the hum of the wheels on the cobblestone and my Aunts voice chatting off my uncle's ear, but I was somewhere else completely.

When I came to my senses, I realized that we were out by the countryside. Grassy hills and gardens past in a blur, tinted by the evening hue. The road was no longer cobblestone. We were on a small dirt road that was well worn with potholes and tracks. We took a sharp right onto a driveway and continued up it for a matter of minutes. Aunt was saying how excited she was for me, and all I could do was put on a weak smile. I was not looking forward to this.

We rolled up to a mansion that was far bigger than any house I had ever seen. It was brick and the front portion was covered with ivy that clung to the walls. It had many windows and in each one was a candle. A well uniformed man greeted our carriage and opened the door for us and helped Aunt and me out as Uncle followed. He ushered us up the steps leading to the big double doors that welcomed us. Aunt eagerly rushed me in. The main hall was well lit so the visitors could wonder upon the luxurious décor, which I did without shame. I had never seen anything so… expensive. The floors were marble and made me self conscious as my foot steps echoed. We were lead into another room just off the main hall. It had wooden floors that were covered with Persian rugs. It looked to be a lounge as there were many couches and chairs strewn about. The fireplace at the back was blazing, making me feel more at ease for it is almost impossible to feel uncomfortable when you are about the warmth of a flame. Book cases lined half the side wall and all the way to the back were it stopped just before touching the fireplace. There was a card table in the corner and another white-clothed table to the other corner. There were people already present and mingling. They hardly noticed the new arrivals.

"Oh, look everyone! It is Mr. and Mrs. Hatton." An excited woman announced. All the faces turned towards where we stood. Aunt seemed to beam in the attention, while I wanted nothing more than to disappear. The friendly woman shuffled towards us and gave Aunt a hug. I stood back, feeling awkward about intruding.

"And who is this?" She asked just as excitedly as before.

"This, everyone, is my darling niece, Rochelle." Aunt introduced me to the room. I received a couple of smiles and I blushed, hating every moment of it.

"Well, then, welcome Ms. Rochelle! It is a pleasure to have you in our home." Said the woman I now presumed to be Ms. William, the hostess.

"Thank you very much." I answered shyly.

"Upon my word, you look beautiful!" Ms. William exclaimed pushing me back to take a look at me. My cheeks flushed, my worst fear had been realized. I was to be examined and admired for my presence and appearance.

I smiled, trying to hide my discomfort.

Ms. Williams took my hand into hers and begun to lead me towards the crowd of people. I wanted to protest, but then where would I have gone? Not to mention I had no intention of disgracing Aunt and Uncle.

"This is Mrs. Smith. Her husband is over there with all the other men." She said pushing me in front of a tall woman who looked down at me through a rather old monocle. She bowed her head in recognition and then returned to her conversation. My heart sank. Was I that unacceptable?

"Never mind her; she was never good with first impressions." Whispered Ms. Williams, who was beginning to remind me very much of my aunt.

She pulled me to a pair of couples who were lightly talking of the weather.

"Do excuse me," She began. The four turned towards me, smiling. They were obviously more experience with first impressions. "This is Ms. Rochelle, Becky's niece."

"How do you do?" A man sporting a wispy moustache that moved when he spoke asked. "I am Mr. Neil and this is my lovely wife."

"Hello dear," She said gently taking my hand in a polite handshake.

"And this is the Donalds." Ms. Williams said turning towards the other two. Both smiled and raised their brandy glasses at me, which was odd considering this was a tea party.

Excusing myself, I left to go find Aunt. I noticed more people had arrived and the room was filling quite hastily. I could spot neither Aunt nor Uncle. Pushing through the couples and singles, I frantically looked about. Every moment I felt more and more alone. I could not handle this by myself. I needed a coach! I had no idea how to go about this!

I exited the open room, stumbling into the hall. My slippers made a soft pattering noise on the bare marble. I was alone. No one was out there. I paused, catching my breath. After a few minutes, I decided it would be suspicious of me not to return. I turned to reenter the room when I nearly crashed into someone. In my attempt at avoiding the collision I back stepped, though my foot got caught in the long skirts of my dress. I felt myself falling backwards and prepared to feel the hard surface connected with my back. It certainly did and it felt far from amazing.

"Remind me not to ask you to dance," Said whoever got in my way, referring to my clumsiness.

"Excuse me?" I gasped, trying to not cry out in pain.

"Just stay away from the dance floor, milady."

I looked up to see a young man in the doorway I had tried to enter. He was looking down upon me with something of arrogance… or was that something different…? I noticed that his gaze was not on my face at all. I followed his stare and discovered my skirts to be up around me thigh. Embarrassed and angry, I jumped to my feet, brushing the skirt down around me legs.

"How dare you! Do not subject me to your stare." I ordered. I was mostly livid about his smug expression, almost as if he could do whatever he pleased because he felt I could do nothing to stop him.

"Oh come now, I know that act was just a rouse to get me to 'subject' you." He said folding his arms. "You are not the first girl to have tried that."

My eyes widened in disbelief. This was preposterous! This man was so pompous that he was accusing me of soliciting his attention!

"I was doing no such thing." I growled stepping towards him, showing that I was not afraid or charmed by him.

"Indeed you were. But don't fret; I shall not make your intentions known to the others. Your reputation is safe."

I scoffed and pushed past him with force, hoping I had hit him hard enough in the chest with my shoulder. He shot his hand out and grabbed my shoulder, holding me back. In order not to make a scene, I yielded his touch and turned to face him. My disposition was sure to mirror the impatience I felt.

"Oh come on, don't play hard to get. Honestly, I am _no_ ordinary bloke, as you well know. I am Thomas," He said his name like I should know it like my own. "But you can call me Tom. All of the ladies do."

I furrowed my eyebrows as if to question this man's sanity. He was most certainly too arrogant for his own good.

"Well, _Thomas_, I am sure you are as famous with the ladies as you claim," I sarcastically said, making my distaste obvious. "But you are not winning my fancy, so allow me to do us both a favor." I retorted turning and taking my leave. I did not wait for a reply, I headed straight for the crowd of women, which was sure to consist of my Aunt. They were gathered around the small table draped with white linen. There was a tea kettle and cups with their saucers all lined up to be taken. The women helped themselves the tea as they continued to gossip. I found Aunt talking to Mrs. Smith. I did not speak, I had nothing to say. I just wanted to be among others so that Thomas would not be tempted to approach me.

Then I spotted something rather odd. The side was in fact covered by a curtain and the tip of it was gentle blowing back and forth as if there were a draft. And then it dawned on me that that was not a wall at all! It was a door, probably to a balcony. The Williams must have not wanted anyone on it so they concealed it with the curtains. That was where I needed to be. Concealed from those people.

I looked around. The women were grouped by me, sipping and chattering. The me were at the other corner at the card table smoking cigars. And there was Thomas, with his back to me, standing with the other men. Everyone was preoccupied so I made my move. I stealthy walked towards the curtain. I made one final look before I slipped behind it and quietly opened the door and stepped out, closing the door completely so the draft wouldn't alert anyone. The evening was turning to dark as the sun slipped below the horizon. It was cold and the breeze was bitting at my bare skin. I wrapped my arms around me and breathed in the cool air. I walked towards the iron railing. Ivy was coiled around the bars and elegantly hung over the side. I rested my elbows on the top of the railing and leaned over. The silence was delicious and I relished it closing my eyes to get the full effect of finally being alone.

A sudden pinch hit my hand. My eyes shot open as I brought my hand to my face. A little red welt was on my knuckle. I looked up not quite sure what I was looking for. There was nothing. Another sharp pinch hit me in the shoulder. I looked over the railing. There was nothing, except a bush that was rustling in the breeze.

_Wait a second…_ I paused, noticing that none of the other bushes were moving. How could only one bush be affected by the wind?

"Who's there?" I asked, doubting any response.

I watched the bush closely. It started to shake and then an arm groped its way through the leaves and the hand grasped the grass and pulled with it a body. I had a half a mind to step away from the balcony and hide among the shadows, but what good would that had done? I had already announced my presence.

The man stood on his feet and brushed away the grassy stains on his pants. Then he looked my way.

"Is that you, Ro?" Came a familiar voice.

"Emmett?" I exclaimed leaning forward over the railing in shock. "What on earth's name are you doing here?"

"I told you that I was going to this party. Ha, now you have to bite your tongue." He said amusingly.

"Yes, but you are not at the party. You are outside the party. And no you shall have to bite _your_ tongue."

My victory was his silence. I smiled down at him. Then, my eye cot a small pebble by my foot, another was a few inches away from it, and yet another still as about a foot away from me. I picked it up, examining it.

"Were you throwing rocks at me?" I queried the young man below.

"I was trying to get your attention." He explained. He looked to have no regrets.

"Thrice you hit me!" I said frustrated at his calmness.

"But I only threw three rocks… I wasn't even looking and I hit my target all three times." He laughed at his good fortune. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, come on! If it hurts that badly, come down here and I will kiss it." He smirked, raising one eyebrow as if to challenge me. And I was not one to live down a challenge.

A/N: Sorry for the wait. I hope you liked this chapter. I am sorry if there are any spelling errors, I haven't proofread it yet. I will later though. Just a note: my "w" key is funky and sometimes it works and sometimes it's stubborn, so forgive any obvious spelling mistakes with the letter 'w' in it. By the way, I greatly appreciate all of the reviews! THANK YOU!


	5. Doors

Doors

I slipped back into the humming room of energy. The men's laughs were deep and coming from the corner where they sat and played cards; their voices were muffled by the fat cigars that hung out of their mouths. The women were seated on the couch around the fire with there tea at hand.

"Oh, Ro, there you are!" Exclaimed Aunt from her seat. I stiffened frustrated I had been seen. "Would you be a dear and open the door, the smoke is getting too thick." She motioned to the doors I had just come from. I smiled in agreement and swiftly turned and in one hurried motion I had opened the doors wide, letting in the cool air. Beside that, no one seemed to notice me so I quietly walked across the floor to the other doors that had been closed to keep the cigar smoke within the one room. I felt as if someone was watching me, but I did not turn. I just prayed that if there was indeed someone eyeing me it was not Thomas.

Coming into the main hall, my slippers made a rather loud sound as they hit the marble floor. It made me incredibly aware of the silence and I hasted my step so I would reach the exit sooner. I arrived at the massive double doors that had welcomed Aunt, Uncle and I an hour or so ago. My hands wrapped around the big handles and I pulled. The doors were heavier than they looked and I almost let go, which would have created an alarming sound, as they would have slammed against the doorframe. I caught myself and continued outside. Suddenly aware of what I was doing, I slowed my pace. What was I doing? What if someone caught us? Then I remembered the feeling of eyes watching me as I left. My heart skipped a beat. We had to get this over with quickly.

Assuming Emmett hadn't left, I made my way towards the side of the house that was marked by the overhanging balcony I was just on. There he was, standing with his back to me, still looking up at the balcony.

I cleared my throat to announce my presence. He spun around with a smile on his face. I grabbed the sleeve of his coat and pulled him towards the outside wall of the mansion. The shadows served as good cover, at least for now.

"I guess I realized we'd need privacy to kiss, but I had no idea you'd be so eager, Ms. Hatton." He teased. I immediately let go of his sleeve so he wouldn't get the wrong idea.

"Don't be so confident. For all you know I could have come here to tell you to go away." I said quietly.

"Well, actually I did not think you were really coming down. I was just having good humor when I said I'd kiss it. But I won't say no if you insist." He explained leaning one elbow on the wall.

Frantically trying to step out of the grave I was digging for myself, I racked my brain for a response. The problem was that I hadn't a clue what my response was.

"Mr. Hawkins," I started, trying to make more time to find my tongue. "I had no intention of such things. I came here simply because – because I wanted to thank you for the carving!" I finished, excited I had come up with an excuse. He looked at me quizzically and then his face relaxed and another grin pulled at his lips.

"Aw yes, _that_ carving."

"Yes, well thank you." I said again.

"Your very welcome." He bowed still keeping eye contact with me.

"Well, now that that's over with, I shall say 'Good bye' and you'll take your exit." I directed. Emmett was the kind of man that you had to tell him what to do or he'd do whatever he pleased.

"Wait a second, you except me to believe that you met me here just to say a mere 'Thank you'?" He asked through his grin as he took a step closer to me. I stepped backwards immediately.

Then, I caught an unfamiliar sound. It was the heavy footsteps of someone walking on gravel. Someone was coming!

"Get down!" I whispered pulling Emmett towards the ground where a bush shielded us from sight. I knew I was getting my new dress dirty, but that was not the worst that could happen.

"Ro?" A rather unpleasant voice called out like the possessor was trying to coax me out of my hiding place.

Emmett raised an eyebrow at me, silently asking me who that was. I rolled my eyes, and crouched lower.

To no avail of mine, the footsteps stopped in front of the shrubbery. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to defy science and achieve invisibility.

"What on earth are you doing Ro?" Thomas said leaning over the bush. Then he saw Emmett and frowned. Emmett got on his feet I followed less willingly, not wanting to face Thomas.

"And whom are you?" Thomas inquired, eyeing Emmett threateningly.

"I am Mr. Williams and this is my party." Emmett retorted. My eyes widened and I shoved my elbow into his side. _What the hell is he doing?_ _Oh God, I am as damned as any sinner!_

"Mr. Williams is my uncle." Thomas said bluntly and unblinking.

"Surprise!" Emmett sang throwing his hands in the air.

"Oh for God's sake, Emmett! Shut up!" I half yelled. This was no time for his incompetent jokes.

"Listen to Ro, she's a smart one." Thomas teased.

"It's Ms. Hatton to you." I said, just as threateningly as he towards Emmett.

Thomas looked down at me, as serious as can be. He did not like my correcting him.

"You better go." I whispered to Emmett, still staring Thomas down.

Finally, Emmett listened to me. He gave an exaggerated bow towards Thomas and then proceeded to sweep my hand up and kiss it. "Until next time, Ro." He said knowing I would not correct him, which further angered Thomas who I had corrected earlier.

He started to walk down the driveway. _Did he walk here? _But then I noticed a horse tethered to a tree at the entrance of the driveway.

Too ashamed to look at Thomas, I began to walk back to the front doors. Thomas followed. I felt as if I were a child and he was my superior leading me to my awaiting punishment. I kept my eyes on the ground, watching my feet as they took turns stepping in front of the other. I prayed that Thomas was not going to tell anyone of this. I even thought about asking him, but that would be futile. At least he did not know Emmett's name.

As we entered the main hall, a hand grasped my shoulder from behind. I cringed at his touch and forcefully threw his hand off me. He spun me around to face him. I was too surprised to react.

"I could ruin you, do you realize? Rumors go a long way in this society and I can make what I just witnessed a whole lot worse. You and your Aunt and Uncle would be shunned by everyone, so wise up and stop making me look so bad!"

"What do you mean? I have done nothing to make you look bad. Now, remove your hand." I kept my voice steady and strong so he knew my words were something to consider. He heeded my demand and let me leave.

Upon our entrance, the congregation all turned towards us in recognition of our arrival.

"You found her!" Aunt chirped. She smiled at the two of us.

"And just in time. It is our turn to take our leave." Uncle announced. He stood from his spot at the card table and walked to where Aunt sat and held out his arm for her to utilize. The couple bade everyone 'goodbye' and then waited for me to join them at the door. We waited for the servant to fetch our coats and Uncle's hat and scarf. Our carriage was waiting outside. I just wanted to get in and leave before something bad happened. I climbed in first, followed by Aunt. Uncle joined the driver at the front. Just as the carriage started to roll, the front doors burst open as a determined Thomas marched out. He waved for the coach to stop. To my utter disappointment, it did. I watched in horror as he walked up to the window and asked for Aunt to step outside for a few words. As Aunt dismounted the carriage, Thomas' eye caught mine and I looked at him desperately. I should not have because that was what he wanted to see. He smiled and the turned towards Aunt. His back was to me so I could not hear his hushed tones. All I could see was Aunt's face who was facing me. I looked for a shocked or troubled disposition on her behalf. The suspense was too much to bear so I looked away.

It seemed hours until Aunt returns and I could not bear to look at her face, afraid of what I might see. The carriage began to roll again. I could not tell if she was staring at me, but the silence was enough for me to know that she was not content. That was the entire ride home, deathly silent.

The next morning breakfast was just as filled with tension. I had no appetite so I just stared at my food. Aunt let her silverware clash as she dropped them. I jumped at the sound and looked up.

"Ro, do you know what I found out last night?" She asked frustrated.

"No, Aunt." I said quietly.

"Mr. William's nephew told me that he found you outside with a boy, hiding amongst the shrubbery!" She bellowed. Uncle looked up at me.

"It wasn't what it seems like. It was just Mr. Hawkins' son. He… he wanted to hand deliver a wood carving I bought the other day when we were in the shop." I lied.

"He delivered a wood carving to you at the Williams'?" She asked suspiciously.

"I told him to." I explained.

"Then why were you hiding?"

"We weren't… I had… um, fallen on some slippery gravel and Emmett was just helping me up." I felt bad lying to her so bluntly, but I would hurt her more if she knew the truth.

She fell silent and I looked at Uncle who returned to his breakfast.

I gave a small sigh of relief and excused myself and returned to my room. I picked up the book I had found in the library and continued to read it. After a while, the words became jumbled together and I could not focus on the meaning of the scrambled words. I closed the book and returned downstairs. The clock struck 1:00 as I entered the study where Uncle was. I hadn't even noticed that much time passing. Uncle looked up and smiled and waited for me to speak. I asked if I could go on a small walk. I needed some fresh air; the walls that confined me were getting to close again.

I left the house and walked down the small path to the street. It was a beautiful day with a slight chill. The sky had only a wisp of a grey cloud, as if a painter had accidentally brushed his canvas ever so slightly.

The streets were crowded and the energy was just as present as ever. Looking around at the other women, I realized I had forgotten my coat in my rush to leave the house. I felt a little naked and crossed my arms in front of me.

As I walked beneath a bridge, three young boys began yelling. They were standing on the bridge and looking down at the passersby. They were dirty and poorly clothed with ragged shirts and holey pants. They shouted profanities and spit onto the crowd and then crouched, as the victims would turn around. I could hear the laughter as I came out the other end. I smiled at their innocence.

I noticed a familiar shop window and read the sign that hung from the door. It was the carpentry shop Mr. Hawkins owned. Without thinking, my feet directed me to the entrance. I opened the door and stepped in. It was warmer inside so I let my arms fall to their sides. The front room was empty with no one to be seen. I turned around to look for a sign of occupancy. I saw that in the corner of the shops window was a small sign that read 'Closed' backwards. My cheeks flushed and I made for the door. My hand was on the knob, but something was holding me back.

A/N: Again, I did not proofread so sorry. I want to say thanks for the few reviews I have gotten, they mean a lot; I'm writing for you. So keep them coming! J


	6. Stepping Stones

Stepping Stones

I knew I should not have been there when the shop was vacant, but something urged me to stay. After all, the door was opened. The light was lit but there were still no signs of occupants. In noticing that the back room's door was lined by light, my curiosity blossomed. I knew that the door lead to the back room, where I could here murmurs. Before my mind could grasp it, my feet were moving towards the door in a cautious manor. I lifted my skirts so I could feel at peace that I would not trip. Muffled voices greeted my ear with caution.

Kneeling beside the door slowly, I pressed my ear up against its cold wooden surface. My hands spread out to distribute my weight so I didn't tip over. I could make out three muffled voices. Each word that they said was fuzzy and had a weird echo to it, but I could make out one of the speakers, Emmett. The other two did not ring a bell with my memory.

"So you do?" One of the voices spoke. It belonged to a male definitely. It was kind of light and airy but still of mature quality.

"Well, yes. I guess that's a fair statement." Emmett's rich, dark voice confessed.

"I don't blame you, chap. She sounds like a fine one." Came the third party. It was of my opposite sex as well, though this one seemed to have a younger tone. I concluded that these boys were friends and were just conversing in their boyish ways.

"Ah, I don't see the big deal. She's no beauty." The younger one said.

"What you mean is 'no whore'. Forgive me, Garfield, but not every man is attracted to those drunken women that you find so much pleasure in." Emmett laughed. Even through the door I could identify his deep, raspy laugh that made my cheeks go pink.

"So, tell us then, Emmett. What's she to you?" Asked the one not given a name yet.

"Her name is Ro—"

I almost lost balance and fell flat on my backend, which wouldn't have been the favorable action, considering that it would make a very audible sound that would alarm Emmett and his group in the adjacent room and I would most likely give myself away.

I had not even thought about what they were talking about; I heard but I wasn't listening. And now that I just heard him say my name I wished I had kept a sharper ear on the conversation.

"Her eyes are hard and dangerous, which is a contrast with her mighty soft skin."

"So you've touched this lass, have you?" Garfield teased gaily.

I grew so red and uncomfortable I almost decided to abandon them to their conversations. But how could I when Emmett was speaking such things?

"Just her hand, once maybe twice, but it was all I needed." He answered

I glanced at my hand, trying to remember his touch.

"She has a confidence in her manner of speaking."

I was so tense and hanging on to his every word that a pause might have very well been the death of me at that moment.

"Every time she speaks, I watch her lips. It's a wonder she hasn't noticed."

"So have you kissed her?"

"No, but believe me, I haven't gone a day without imagining my mouth claiming her own."

My face burned and surpassed the color of pink. My heart was beating so loud that I was afraid it would drown out the voices so I clamped my hand over my heart in a futile attempt to muffle its beats. I couldn't believe he would admit that to his friends, only one of whom I knew the name: Garfield, but nothing more than that.

"Why don't you? For the love of God, it's not like you haven't kissed a girl before!" Cried the third man.

In hearing that, I lowered my eyes to the floor in disappointment. I do not know why I was so thwarted at those words. I had to remind myself that I did not like him and did not wish him to be mine.

"I know, Victor. But all those times were out of lust." He defended himself.

Then, the 'Victor' fellow asked, "And this is love?" His tone was skeptical…perhaps even mocking.

I think Emmett made an attempt at answering but Garfield rescued him from answering the question to my relief. Part of me wanted to hear what he had to say, but the better half didn't. That would just be unrealistic and inconvenient to the utmost extremity, for, then I would have to live knowing he loved me, if that was his answer, but I could not allow my heart to be bound to his because as much as I disagreed with it, I had a place in life and society now.

"Listen, Emmett, just do what you feel is right next time you see this girl; if you wish to kiss her, then why not? What girl has ever denied you her lips?" Victor asked with a boyish chuckle.

_'This one,'_ I thought to myself.

I knew I wouldn't allow him to do such a thing. I also was very aware at the moment of the possibility of a small liking of him that kindled deep in my stomach. If I let our lips meet, than all efforts would be lost and that small kindle would erupt into a flame, I was sure of it. I didn't think it to be a hard task because what gentleman would impose himself that way on a woman without consent?

In all my thoughts I did not hear the boy named Garfield had excused himself and was now headed my unsuspecting way until the doorknob turned. In a jiffy, I imagined myself jumping up and hot footing it out of there, but my body froze. My eyes widened as the door left my ear and I began to fall forward as my balance abandoned me. Thankfully, some sense thrust its way at me and I rose to my feet before I gave the floor a smart smack with my face.

"What in tarnation?" Garfield said, his voice was much clearer now that the door wasn't in my way. I looked up at him with surprise, my head racing for my next move. Was I to run, or stay put? I bet I could have made my get away without the other two noticing if I lit out now. But again, my legs surrendered. I cursed myself.

"Why 'ello." He said smiling when he saw I was just a harmless girl. Looking up at him, I got to see who _Garfield_ really was. He looked Emmett's age. But unlike Emmett, he did not sport stubble or dark air. Garfield's head was abundant with blonde hair that was hidden beneath a cap that was tilted to the side. He had thick eyebrows and small round eyes that smiled down at me and his attire told me he was something of the lower class. I could not get an accurate telling of his height because of my angle.

He stepped aside, opening the door wide for everyone to see. I stood up but otherwise I was frozen, starring at Emmett. He was slouching in an old, leather, high-backed chair at the far side of the room. His sleeves were pulled up just passed his elbow with an unbuttoned brown vest over his white shirt. His hair was messy and it became vastly apparent that he was not concerned about his proper looks with his cronies. The moment he saw me, he straightened his back. He looked just as surprised as I.

"I found her outside. I reckon she was spying on us." Garfield said in a non-threatening tone. He had laughter to his voice. He seemed that he was a sunny person all around.

The room in which I was now in, was small and worn out. There was a small card table that had some simple wooden chairs accompanying it. Near the left side of the room were three leather lounge chairs, one was Emmett's, that sported fatigued leather. The other side of the room appeared to be the storage area where all the finished furniture and such was kept.

My eyes traversed back to Emmett, though I could not bring myself to look into his. I was embarrassed considerable, but I was more worried that Emmett was going to be angry with me. But then I thought that that might be a good thing; if he was sore with me, than he wouldn't be so irresistible any more.

I hadn't realized I was holding my breath until I felt the urge to exhale before my lungs exploded. But I quickly took all the breath back when I saw Emmett rise from the chair and swiftly walk towards me with a determined stare.

'_Just apologize to him! Or get out of there before he gets really cross with you. No! Just defend your ground. He had no right to be talking about you anyway.'_

As I fought with myself I realized that Emmett hadn't a sour expression or clenched fist about him. And when he got within a foot of me, it came to me a little too late as his words echoed in my mind. Was he going to kiss me? I panicked and took a step to the side, hoping to avoid him. But he came straight at me. It turned out my side step was an error because I had forsaken the door – my only means of escape — and was now trapped between him and the wall. I flattened up against its surface, hoping I would somehow blend in or become one with it.

He was a mere foot from me and seeing that he wasn't slowing down, I put my last defense into play, putting up my hands out in front of me. But he ignored me, pressing into them with such ease that I wondered if I actually tried to resist his attempts.

"Emmett n—" My eyes grew round as the moon and my back stiffened like a board as his mouth took mine. I pushed on his shoulders with my palms and thought about even kicking him, but then his hand gently gripped the nape of my neck, his rough hand felt wondrous on my bare skin. And his free hand held my side on my ribs, pulling me up to him. My head started to spin; I didn't know how to react. Was I supposed to fight him? I didn't want to. But what I wanted and what needed to happen were worlds apart

His hands were warm and I could feel their heat through the layers of my dress and even the corset I was wearing. All of a sudden I was glad I had forgotten my coat. My eyes were half open and I watched helplessly as Victor and Garfield slipped out of the room in my peripheral vision. I suppose I was relieved, too….

Emmett's hot breath in my mouth burned in a fine way, like when you sit by the fire and its heat burns in a comforting sense.

Despite my strife, Emmett did not cease. I grasped his shirt's cloth into my fists, hoping that this was warning enough. Not until after that deed was done did I realize the flaw. Yes, to me, that seemed like a perfectly sound action to ward him off, but he seemingly took it as me attempting to pull him closer in a spasm of passion. He removed his hand from my neck and placed it on the wall beside my head for support. He softly pushed me up against the wall and leaning on his outstretched arm, he bent into me, hunching his back so he could angle his head since I was not aiding. I let out a soft remonstrative sound invoked upon by his unprovoked passion. This happened to be the second err, for he twice mistook my protests. He took to the notion that my sound was yet another plea of passion. He deepened the kiss even farther, sliding his tongue over my nether lip. A sharp chill ran down my spine. Before my mind could take responsibility for my actions, my back slowly arched until I was smashing into Emmett who had wrapped his supporter arm around my shoulders, fully embracing me. I raised myself to my toes, leaning into him. Now I was just as guilty for applying myself to him.

"What the bloody hell is this?"

I jumped at the sudden extra voice. Although Emmett had stopped, his lips were still on mine, probably because he had frozen with surprise just as I. I quickly broke our hold. Emmett did not let his hands fall, however.

Looking to my side with suspense, I tried to place the intruder's voice in my memory. My memory came up empty, however, I soon affirmed the unidentified owner visually. There was Thomas, standing in the doorway. A natty navy blue ensemble reflected his upper class mentality. His thick hair was parted to the side, as it had been when we first met.

"Ro? What is going on?" He asked sounding rather angry.

I shoved Emmett and he let go without strife. The feeling of actually succeeding in one of my struggles to ward Emmet off elated me for a spell. But the thought of Thomas walking in and seeing us…together… put me to shame. Despite my winning, Emmet hadn't quite moved away from me. I let it slide because I had much larger complications.

"W-what are you doing here?" I asked, out of breath. I loathed myself for breathing so hard. It only testified against me.

"Does my being here unnerve you?" He asked raising a sarcastic brow.

I stared at him with disdain. He was such a nuisance.

"Why the sour look?" He jeered.

"Forgive me, sir, but one is usually 'sour' with intruders." I retorted throwing back his sarcastic disposition with slightly squinted eyes.

"My God, you are still as hostile as when I first met you." He scoffed with a sudden smile, straightening his poster and raising his chin. I supposed he was making his superiority known throw gestures.

"Bugger off!" Emmett threatened, raising his voice.

"I see you attract men of the same humor." He mocked. His look was one of disgust at Emmett.

Emmett took a threatening step towards Thomas.

"You had better wise up and shut that gob of yours." Emmett's fists were clenched and his eyes were aglow with excitement.

"Such threats from the likes of your mouth? I must say you are a bold one." Thomas jested, sporting a mocking smirk.

I had to agree with the last part. After all, Emmett had been so brash as to solicit himself on me. But this was far past enough. I could feel the tension between the two boys escalating and knowing that both were chocked full of ego, a fists was bound to be thrown. If a fight broke out, then only more misfortune would befall this day, even if I did want Thomas to get what was coming to him.

Not a moment too soon did I interfere, for, just as I made my move to take my stand between the two did Emmett's anger take the best of him. He lunged toward Thomas with his fist drawn back.

I leapt in between them.

"Stop it, the both of you!" I yelled. Emmett halted his actions when my meddling obscured his target.

It became very still and the air grew thick. It was a most awkward situation seeing that Emmett's lunge had brought him closer to Thomas, ergo, the distance between them was quite short. There was not but two feet that occupied the space and there was I, squeezed in the middle.

Emmett was looking down at me; most of the anger was gone, now confusion took its place.

"Smart girl." Thomas said looking at Emmett like he had taken the form of a vermin. "You should heed her advice."

"I interloped on your behalf, Mr. Bentley." I said coldly, staring up at him. He wasn't much taller than me; he certainly did not measure up to Emmett. "Mr. Dawkins would have made that jaw of yours _painfully_ crooked."

I saw Thomas' arm rise and extend towards me, but I did not move as a result of my slow reactions. His hand touched just below my jaw line. I flinched at his touch. I did not take my eyes off him. Thomas looked at me with a joker's grin and I wanted nothing more than to smack it off his face. I could feel him following my jaw line and stopping at my chin. He held it between his index finger and thumb and lifted my face up to look at him. I was too surprised to do anything. But in my mind's eye, I could see myself slapping him.

"Thank God he did not do so to yours. You should be more careful of those you kiss. He is far too **robustious** to be thrusting himself at you."

Suddenly I regretted stopping Emmett's attack.

"Get your damned hand off her, you bastard!" Emmett growled his forewarning at Thomas.

Thomas abruptly removed his hand at Emmett's accusation.

"You had best bite your tongue, _Mr. Dawkins_." Thomas said Emmet's name with a foul tone that is usually reserved to curse an ill-mannered street orphan.

Emmett ignored Thomas, placing his hands on my shoulders and pulling me behind him and taking my former spot in front of Thomas.

"You owe Ms. Hatton a few words of gratitude because it is her – and only her – that has convinced me to take a leave without laying my hand on you."

He glared at Thomas for a couple of seconds and then swiftly turned on his heels and led me towards the door. I hastily made my exit, wishing nothing more than to put this behind me.

As we crossed the threshold, Thomas put in his last words,

"You would not be regretting my lips, Ms. Hatton." The words spoken lacked care as such a sentence should behold, but instead Thomas said them with arrogance and dominance.

Emmett stopped cold. I wished he hadn't heard Thomas.

I listened to Emmett's footsteps backtrack and reenter the room. That was accompanied by a loud striking sound.

"You broke my nose!" Thomas whined.

Emmett returned beside me, ushering me back down the hall, mumbling curses under his breath,

"Bloody cur."

We exited the building into the cold evening. I could see Emmett's breath in the brisk air as well as my own. We made our way down the street, passing a few couples and their children. I half expected to hear Thomas immerge from the building angrily and chase us until he got his revenge.

By and by, we came to a corner and took its turn. We knew now that we were safe from Thomas. Silence had been our company until now.

"So, was that the bloke from the party the other night?" Emmett asked curious as to whom he had assaulted. I just realized that all Emmett knew next to nothing about the man. It humored me that Emmett barely knew this man and he had broken his nose already.

"That was Mr. Thomas Williams, a man who cherishes money, pride, and his reputation above the rest." The cold had gotten to me so my voice lacked warmth.

"And how did the misfortune of crossing his path come to be?"

"My Aunt introduced me to him at that tea party."

"You mean that night that you saw me from the balcony?" Emmett said with a hint of laughter in his voice, like he was remembering a fond memory.

My lips curled at the edges into a smile at the thought.

I looked up at a post, reading the street name. We were about three blocks from my house. "And how is it you know the way to my house?" I queried realizing _I_ had not led us here.

"You sound pleased at my knowledge." He teased.

I laughed softly.

We continued on in silence. I could hear his breathing next to me. My mind went back to the feeling of his breath in my mouth and how it had tasted and felt like. I blushed, thankful that he did not see me. His shoulder brushed mine and my heart started to beat faster as I recalled the sensation of his touch on my bare skin. My heart was pounding ever louder. He started to laugh. It caught me off guard and I jumped.

"What?" I said worried that I had accidentally spoken my thoughts.

"You look terrified." He said looking down at me with a crooked grin.

The truth was that I was indeed scared. I apprehended that because of his bold move on me, I was forever going to be reminded of him. Now, no matter how hard I try, little things like a person's steady breathing or touch would bring me back to the feeling of his lips on mine. This was getting worse. I had begun to fall for Emmett and now I was dangerously close to actualizing that fear. If I did fall for him my Aunt or Uncle might get so angry with me that I would loose my only haven from poverty, or my father. If poverty took me, a prostitute might become of me. Of course, I could just keep my feelings to myself. But then the hurt from finding love but not being able to reveal to my lover nor my dear Aunt and Uncle would be my downfall. I had let this go too far.

"Ro? Are you okay?" His voice brought me back to reality. Emmett sounded genuinely concerned.

"Oh…um…y-yeah. I'm fine." I said. Despite the cold, I felt rather warm and my palms were growing clammy.

"Did I say something offensive?" He asked, carrying on his interest in my change of character.

I could see my residence a little ways off and wanted to speed time up so I could isolate myself in my bedroom to regroup.

When I did not answer he continued his queries.

"Did I _do_ something?"

_'Yes, you did. You did _something _very wrong.'_

"Ro," He grasped my arm, stopping me. I turned to see him looking down to me with fret in his eyes. I had to fight with myself to not let his touching me bring on anymore unwanted memories. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I whispered. I had to look away from him. I focused on a Bobby walking away from us. His dark uniform made him look like a shadow in the night.

"Don't lie to me, Ro."

"Is it because I kissed you?" He laughed.

I blushed madly. I could not believe he had said that. I felt like he could hear my thoughts. I suddenly became very self-conscious.

"Oh my God, it is!" He laughed even louder. I could not help but take pleasure in the deep throaty sound he made when he laughed; it made me smile. But I quickly swiped it off my face before he could see it.

My face was burning by now. And I was getting rather mad because he was laughing at me and that was not cohesive with my current feelings.

"Why are you laughing? Is it that _funny_?"

"Not at all. It's rather cute that you're cross with me for such a reason."

I could not take anymore of this embarrassment so I twirled on my heels and started to walk briskly down the sidewalk towards my refuge.

"Oh, come now, Ro. You can't possibly be that angry with me." Emmett said catching up with me. When I didn't stop for him he took a large stride and stepped in my way. I stopped, not wanting to collide with him.

I glared at him with annoyance and then sidestepped my way around him and continued on my way.

I hung a right into the pathway that led up to the house. Emmett's hand grasped my wrist and pulled back. I almost fell backwards if it weren't for his still hold on to me.

"What was that for?" I said astonished that he would use such force.

"Why won't you talk to me?" he said, all the laughter gone in his eyes and voice.

I reached my limit. He had pushed me to this point, so now I was going to give him what he wanted, and that was for me to talk.

"Why the bloody hell did you have to kiss me, Emmett?" I whined, furrowing my eyebrows.

"I didn't have to." He said confused. "I _wanted_ to."

"Do you even realize what you've done?"

He didn't answer me. He just looked even more confused. I sighed, frustrated.

"I don't understand. It's not like you didn't want me to." He said holding my stare.

My eyes dilated.

"What? Wait, hold up!" I raised my voice. I felt my temper rising as well. "What are you talking about? Did I at any point make it known that I wished for you to to do that to me?"

"Well, no-"

"In fact, I recall me saying 'Emmett, no!'" I interrupted. "And then you carried on to not heed me and do so anyway."

"True, but you cannot deny that you did not enjoy it." He pointed out getting frustrated himself.

I stopped. What was I to say? I realized his hand was still around my wrist and I gently pulled it out of his grasp. He didn't even try to keep his hold.

"Do you deny that if I were to kiss you right now, that you would in fact kiss me back?" He asked, taking a step closer.

"Y-no…yes – I don't know!" I tried to escape and started for the front door.

"No, No." He grabbed my forearm but came to me instead of pulling me to him this time. "You cannot leave until I get an honest answer."

I felt like I should have let Thomas and Emmett have a go at each other. At this point I did not mind the thought of Emmett getting a lick.

"Please, let go of me." I pleaded, trying to keep a steady voice.

"Answer me." He said softly almost pleading himself.

I looked around desperately for an escape. I saw a man down the street looking at us; I calmed down, not wanting him to mistake Emmett for an attacker.

Suddenly, Emmett began to drag me across the street. I tried to pull my arm from him, but he held tighter. I stumbled as I descended the curb and if it weren't for Emmett's hold, again, I would have found my face taking a liking to the cobblestone. He pulled me up without hesitation and continued on his conquest.

"What are you doing?" I asked in a breathless panicked.

He didn't answer. He towed me all the way into an alley. The shadows engulfed us.

Emmett pulled me up in front of him with the alleyway's wall pressing up on my back.

"You want to hear the truth?" He whispered angrily. My face was numb to the cold air until then, when his hot breath brushed my skin. I was surprised by his harsh tone.

"_You_ are killing me. Ever since the day I delivered that damned chair to your house, you have plagued me. You _will not_ leave my conscience no matter how much I try to think you out of my head. I try to remind myself of the obvious class difference and the reality of it, but…nothing works."

I felt belittled as he poured out these words to me. I was helpless and amazed at the same time. All I could do was stare into his eyes in disbelief.

"I swear on the Lord's good name that you have bewitched me, Ro. I cannot for the life of me cast you from my dreams." Emmett looked almost tormented as he forced the truth on me. He seemed almost as much in agony as I had just felt walking down the street with him.

I knew I had to say something, but no syllables would form behind my stunned lips. All that passed them was a broken word that I meant to be 'oh'. Inside, I was feeling a mass of confusion churning in my stomach and chest. It made it hard to breathe and I found my breaths deepen. Emmett was studying me fiercely, his eyes piercing through mine.

He changed his humor, taking on a hopeless expression. He broke our gaze and bowed his head in defeat. He shoved off the wall and half turned away from me.

Sympathy overwhelmed me. I did not mean for Emmett to end up looking so hurt. I admired Emmett's frankness and I wanted to show him that, but I was still reeling from his words.

"Emmett," I tried my hand at consoling him. But I felt much too awkward to touch Emmett so I just used words.

"What, Ro?" He whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I-I like you, I really like you, Emmett." I offered.

"Ro, that means nothing." Emmett turned back to me. "Ro…I don't like you," He paused and sighed. He laid a warm hand on my cheek. I did not flinch at his touch like I had at Thomas' "I think I lo – I love you. Honestly, I do." His voice trailed off on the last word. He faced me, eyes piercing mine with devastating honesty. He was almost stern. His breathing was ragged, tortured by the situation and cold evening air. I felt my airway closing and breathing was a labor for me. I felt the sharp pain in my chest like I do when I am about to let myself cry. But it was neither fear nor sadness that coaxed the emotion. It was anger and frustration. The position that was present provided little hope. Emmett, this… boy that for no reason I have found affection with, had admitted to me that his heart lies with mine. And I do not know where I stand. I cannot deny the way he makes me feel when he is around me, speaks to me… touches me. But on the other, less fortunate, hand, I cannot deny the reality of his class. I have no problem with this fact, and in all frankness I find this attribute attractive, for, he is not a Thomas, who is a very good representation of the young men of the upper class. And then there was my Aunt and Uncle who, at the very least, I owe my loyalty and respect. To woo a suitor of a lower class would destroy their reputation and a man's reputation is key to survival.

"Why did you have to say that?" I whispered. I had not known I had spoke my mind until Emmett shifted to a very quizzical look, removing his hand from my cheek.

"Um…err…" I wished I could shove the words back into my mouth. It must have sounded worse tenfold because he was not present for the conversation in my mind. He did not know the reason behind my query.

"Why did I have to say that?" Emmet repeated with his eyebrows furrowed.

"No… what I mean is –" I stuttered raking my mind profusely trying to find what I really _did_ mean.

The anger I once possessed turned to shame.

"Does it make things complicated for you now that I shared my deepest thoughts and feelings to you?" He spat, confusion in his voice and anger in his eyes.

"'Shared?' Excuse me, but 'shared' implies that two people agree to use a common thing or idea." I do not know exactly why I started spewing these unnecessary words that could only hurt not help, but I blame it on the human err to point the finger at anyone but you. I knew I had made a mistake, but I made myself believe that so had Emmett. "I do not recall anyone agreeing to –"

"So now people have to have an agreement to admit their love?" He said sarcastically.

"You know, another thing," I started, casting aside my earlier argument thinking he had won that. "Did it ever occur to you how you saying… what you said, would make me feel?"

"Yes, I did. I thought that like any other normal human being, you'd appreciate the fact that it takes courage to admit such a massive emotion. Not to mention admit that you feel the same way about me, and do not deny it, I know you do." Emmett warned, leaning in to look into my eyes, daring me to defy his words.

"Who are you to say whom I love and what I actually feel? How dare you, you arrogant ass!" And of course I acted so angrily because I was embarrassed that I was so vulnerable and that _he_ could read me so intimately.

"Then do you deny it?" He asked, lowering his voice.

The alley grew quiet. I looked out to the side at the street. It was deserted. Aunt and Uncle's house looked so inviting. I wondered if they were worried about me. I looked at the damp ground. The hem of my skirt was dirty. Aunt would have a fit with my return.

"I –"

"No, tell it to my face, not the ground." He said gently lifting my chin. I found his eyes and almost looked away, but his warm hand covered my cold bitten cheek. I placed my hand over his, not wishing for his touch to leave my cheek. His hand felt so warm and strong under mine. After what seemed like an hour arguing all it took was a single moment for the tension to disappear leaving a calm, idyllic atmosphere between us. But inside was different. I didn't know about Emmett, but I was still fighting inside, and I did not know which side was winning. I still felt torn and I was still tearing, Emmet and myself grasping to one half and my Aunt and Uncle the other.

It was so unfair. I could not disgrace my Aunt and Uncle. They took me in when I offered nothing in return except one more mouth to feed. They only knew me by my traits passed on by my dead mother. They saved me from the polluted streets of London and the psychotic hands of my father.

I refused to hurt them.

"Ro…" Emmett said bringing me back to the present. I looked at him as he studied me with deep brown eyes. His hands were still where I held it. His rough skin felt phenomenal on my cold soft skin. Looking into his eyes suddenly brought me outside of myself and the dilemmas present. I could see he really did have love in his heart and right then the words he had spoken to me earlier became a reality to me. They were no longer just words strung together. And that scared me.

"I –" I stopped, pulling his hand off my face and softly pushed him away.

"I have to go." I turned and headed for the mouth of the alley. My eyes stung, a sure sign I was holding back tears.

Emmett did not try to stop me, which surprised me, but relieved me at the same time.

"Ro, you can't just runaway when you are scared. You have to face life sometime." His voice called out as I stepped onto the empty street.

Those words stung. I stopped, spinning around.

"Would you stop acting like you're in my head?" I yelled, "You don't know me!"

I didn't even realize I was walking back towards him until the alley wall's shadow engulfed me. I stepped back into the lamp-lit street.

"I'm pretty sure I know you better than you think." He yelled back.

I scoffed. Adrenalin was rushing through me excitedly. I was sure the red hue in my cheeks was not a result from the cold but from my anger.

"You may scoff at me, but it's only because you are too proud to admit it."

"Me? Too proud? Look who's talking. You are the most pompous man I have met!" That was a lie. My father beat him by a hundred miles.

My arms were just as animated as I felt and Emmett looked just as riled up. This night was getting to be way too much for me to handle, one moment it was up and the next down and so forth. I had it.

"You need to get a hold of reality, Ro. You upper class girls are so damned silly. You haven't a clue about other people's feelings, just your own. The only thing holding you back from me is yourself, and you know why? You are afraid to tarnish that flawless reputation all upperclassmen hold so dear!" He yelled taking powerful steps towards me with one finger raised like a scolding mother.

"You don't know what you're talking about." I cried. I was numb from my emotions, and the cold air did not help much. I felt neither the tears as they fell nor my eyelashes growing wet as my they sopped them. Time's decent into the night brought the worst of the day's weather, bringing forth bitterly cold breezes and such.

"I think I do. I work for the likes of you. And God forbid you do any work yourself."

I flashed back to the million of chores I had to complete on the farm with my father and how they seemed to keep coming, never letting me rest. He would do but little and the only thing he exercised was his mouth as he cursed my existence to my face. But most of the pain was in his words, his talk of mother and how I killed her and how I couldn't possibly miss her as much as he did. There were times when I worked all day and into the night while he took to the pub in town. He'd come home drunk and it made him vile. He'd yell at me, which was that much worse because of the stench of drink that clung to his breath. Not to mention how much more physical alcohol made him.

I wanted to scream at Emmett until it hurt to speak. He did not know the truth; he did not know me. He was wrong and it killed me because I could not prove it without revealing my cover and furthering the confusion.

"You, Mr. Dawkins, do _not_ know me." I said with a much thicker tone and proceeded to end this hopeless night, "Excuse me."

I gave not one final glance back as I retreated to the house with much haste. I could feel his eyes on me and prayed that he would leave me be and not follow. To my relief, he did no such thing.

The house was mighty warm and the fireplace was ablaze adding comfort to the house. Aunt Becky was reading a book on the sofa. Her back was to me and the flickering light from the fire danced on her face making her features seem as though they moved. A maid assisted me with my coat, putting it on the rack.

"About time to be seeing you, dear." Aunt said only moving her head to look at me, abandoning her book.

"My apologies, I-I lost track of time." I lied. She motioned for me to come closer and I heeded her request. I stiffly joined her on the couch, my hands in my lap.

"Well next time – oh dear, what ever is the matter?" She cut herself off.

There, in the warmth of the house, the cold left my skin as well as the numbness. Suddenly, I could feel the wet streaks of tears begin to dry on my cheeks, and my cold wet nose. When I blinked I could feel my clumped eyelashes. I bet I looked miserable.

"Oh, um…" I paused not wanting to speak of Emmett. But what was I to say?

"I just came from the cemetery, I wanted to visit mother." Another lie. I felt bad lying to her, but it would hurt her more if I told the truth.

"At this hour?" She asked almost frightened. That confused me.

"Well, yes… I just lost track of the time, as I said before."

"Ro, you should not have gone there. Do not use time as a refuge, for the darkness should have brought you home." She scolded, standing up. It reminded me of how Emmett had done so earlier, wielding his finger.

"I'm terribly sorry, Aunt. My intentions were never to imbrue your heart with stress. Forgive me."

It made me sad that I was putting her through this, but still, it was much less complicated then the truth.

"I don't mean to scare you, dear." She said, sitting back beside me, reaching her arms out for me to fall into them. I let her embrace me. "It's just that very questionable characters dwell in the shadows. Wondering the streets at night is not a place for a woman of your class should be."

I pulled away, smiling to reassure her that I was fine. She smiled back at me.

"Where is Uncle?" I asked realizing I hadn't seen or heard him.

"In the study. He has been there all day, breaking only for dinner, which is still on the table for you."

She accompanied me to the dining room and sat down while I shoved the cold dinner into my mouth pretending to be hungry. The prior event had left my stomach without a voice.

The night ended with me dragging myself upstairs and dismissing the maids early and taking refuge in my bed without even relieving myself of my day garments.

I sighed, looking up at the canopy, studying the intricate designs. I did not kill the little flame held by the lamp in fear of coaxing the nightmares with the darkness. A dull circle of light protected me as the memories of the past day haunted me. I was tired from the emotional toll Emmett had caused; well I guess it was my fault as well. I should not have kissed him back let alone let him kiss me. That detail made me even more confused and the situation more complicated. Nevertheless, going from the flirtatious banter to the tension thick arguments was draining. All at once I felt guilty, ashamed, angry, frustrated, romantic, giddy, and sad. I wanted to knot my fingers through my hair and pull my hair from its roots, but at the same time I wanted to feel our fingers knotted together in truce. I wanted to hit Emmett for being so self-righteous but at the same time I want to kick myself for blaming him like a child not yet exposed to maturity. I felt like I was drowning in my own emotions. I was so exhausted and just wanted to find tranquility in my dreams but my thoughts were tormenting me and restrained me from such peace.

I did not know how much time passed as I lost sanity but eventually, it felt as though I really was drowning. I couldn't breathe. Despite the dire need for fresh air, I still lacked motivation to rush to the window and thrust it open. My lethargic feet slowly found their way over the bed's side and connected with the floor. I wondered why I could not feel the familiar cold wooden surface. It took a moment to remember that I was still fully dressed and I was wearing my shoes. I used my hand to push my body from the bed. Just as I made that sudden movement, my eye caught onto a shadow in the corner of the room to my right. It was not a familiar shadow. I knew this because all the nightmares that had disturbed my sleep had forced me to become acquainted with the shadows that occupied my room at night. Images of the nightmares flashed in my mind's eye. The terrifying screams, her face, her eyes, the darkness… the loneliness that has constantly served as my companion. That was my climax. My throat had closed up, refusing my ability to breathe. I awkwardly stumble to the window. Thrusting it open, the air flew in by sections. Once the air cured my disability, I gasped for the refreshing air as I leaned out. The air was delightful and raised my spirits for a jiffy. I breathed through my nose, closing my eyes and letting the smells of London in the wee hours fill my nostrils. I was so tired it was painful. I was exhausted and I wanted to find peace. That was it. I did not care if that meant being banished to limbo. If that brought me isolation from reality, then so be it. I closed my eyes.

A yearning befell me to jump out of the window. I wanted to feel a crisp breeze in my face. I longed for the cool fingers of the wind to brush my hair back. I stood there dreaming of this freedom, when I finally started to drift. The numb feeling of sleep took hold of my limbs, thus, I did not catch myself as I fell to the ground, finally at rest.

I saw myself falling through the air, the skirts of my dress billowing behind me and my arms outstretched. I saw the windows of apartments bellow passing me. The force of the wind pushed my arms behind me. My thin sleeves barely caught any wind. I was like the bird with too small of wings so it just fell, pretending to fly.

Then suddenly, my dream shifted. I was looking sideways at a blurring figure. I could not make out my surroundings, but I got the sense I was inside. I heard blood curdling noises, like wet chokes. I heard gasps for air that went unheeded, like someone or something was being suffocated. The sound of strife echoed in the room, boots kicking the floor helplessly.

"P-please…" A small feminine voice choked. It sounded like her voice was being squeezed out of her. It was followed by a sadistic chuckle and then a sickening sound of slicing skin.

"Mother?" I whispered, tears pooling beside my cheek that was touching the floor.

There was more struggling and then splattering sounds. I wanted to scream, but like most nightmares, I was afraid, and that fear had stolen my voice. But unlike most nightmares, I was aware that I was dreaming. I told myself to wake up. Instead of screaming aloud, I was screaming in my head. _Wake up, Rochelle! Wake up!_

Sounds of cartilage being carved sent violent chills down my spine. I squeezed my eyes as if that could make this horrific nightmare end. And then it did. I found myself falling through the night again, watching the idyllic scene. But this time instead of feeling bliss, I felt uneasy and afraid. Instead of enjoying the scenery of the night, I was forced to watch the ground bellow me creeping closer, ready to pounce. I started to scream and wave my arms as if I could reverse gravity. The hard ground looked up at me as it took hold of my frontal and peripheral vision. My heart pumping so hard I thought it would find its way up my throat and gag me. It felt as though the closer I came the faster I fell and my terrified screams of longing to live came out louder as less hope of living took hold of me. The suspense of waiting for the ground to pounce was unbearable, and then it did. A sickening sound of my head connecting with the cobblestone's surface echoed through the deserted streets and the even more repulsive sound of silence inherited the space; my screams for life silenced in one moment. My body distorted into a horrific mess: limbs bent, neck snapped, hands bent inward in an unorthodox way, and blood spilling from various wounds, filling the cracks in the cobblestone.

I awoke gasping for air, like a silent scream. Sitting erect I looked up. Light poured in from the open window and the sun's rays lay softly over my face. The cold sweat on my forehead and neck was reminiscent of my nightmare; or was it nightmares? I grasped the windowsill and hoisted myself to my feet. My ankles were weak and a cloud of fog still hung over my mind. I was thankful that Hannah hadn't found me sprawled on the floor, asleep in my day dress. But that reminded me that I still looked suspicious. It would not be long before Hannah arrived for her morning duties. I tore off my dress, hoping I did not tear a seam and kicked off my boots. I haphazardly put the dress away and didn't even bother to put the shoes in their proper place. I threw my nightdress on and climbed into the bed which had not been touched by a night's sleep, only the cover folded back where I had exited it. I remembered my hair was still up in its bun, or rather loose bun as my commotion in my sleep and awakened haste disturbed it, and I pulled it out. My hair fell around my shoulders in disarray.

Not a moment too soon did I retreat to the bed, for, Hannah knocked on the door followed by the sound of it opening rather hastily. I could not see her enter because I had hidden my face in the comforter, trying to imply a more unplanned scene.

"Ro," The voice had not belong to Hannah. A hand gently rocked my shoulder, trying to wake me up. "Something terrible has happened."

A/N: Hey there everyone! I just wanted to say thanks for reading and I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. I do have one request. I got a review today that did have elements of constructive criticism, but for the most part it was just rambling rather rudely. I appreciate any reviews but please for, the sake of my self esteem, don't be so damned rude! On the other hand, THANK YOU to all who have added this story to their 'story alert list' and/or left kind reviews!!! You guys keep me motivated!


	7. The Fall

The Fall

The room was buzzing. My eyes were glazed over and unmoving as I stared meaninglessly at a woven bird in the carpet's design. I was not listening to the sounds around me, merely hearing them. I could hear Aunt's frantic voice as she explained the situation to the sheriff. I could hear the sobs of one of the maids Hannah had befriended. Then, there was the sound of investigators as they disgust evidence. All this blended together in one ominous hum that rung in my ears as I thought about how horrific this morning had become.

Hannah was missing. She had been since this morning; at least that's what the evidence declared. I was still in shock. It was unsettling that Hannah was gone, but there was a deeper disturbance that toiled within. Hannah was my maid, yes. But she was also my friend. She had talked to me when I was nervous and felt out of place. She made me feel more at rest.

"Ma'am, we are going to search upstairs." One of the detectives announced to my Aunt in a soft tone. She nodded weakly.

"Are you okay, my dear?" My uncle asked with great concern. He placed a warm hand over m folded hands in my lap.

"Yes, thank you." My voice didn't sound as stable as I wanted it to be.

He leaned over, wrapping a fatherly arm around me. I instinctively hugged back. It felt so good to be comforted like that. I felt a sliver of that long awaited peace I was searching for last night.

"Detective, we found something!" And just like that, my peace of mind was forgotten.

We traveled upstairs and followed the discoverer of the evidence. I dropped my skirt as I stepped on the second floor. The first thing I noticed was that my door was open.

"In here." The man said pointing my room.

My heart skipped a beat.

"Excuse me sir, that's my quarters." I said in surprise. He just looked at me. How could have anything happened in there? I was in there last night and this morning. Wouldn't I have noticed something?

As we entered the room, a sense of fear took hold. It didn't feel like my room anymore. It was different.

"There, right there." He knelt down pointing to the floor.

We crowded around the kneeling investigator. He looked up at us annoyed. It seemed like he was going to warn us off, but he never spoke.

I peered over everyone's head with hesitation. I did not want to confirm my fear.

There, smeared on across the floor was a line of blood.

I gasped, stepping away. My hand flew up to my mouth, like I was muffling my own screams.

"It looks like someone had tried to wipe it up. There, on the lower wall, is some as well. I believe we are lucky. There must have been much more blood before…"

I felt the bitter, familiar tears sting my eyes. A scream welled up in my throat, but it was too much. I was sick of holding back my screams. I could not hear it, but I felt the air drain my lungs and my shrill voice making my throat raw.

The nightmare I had last night about my mother, was not a nightmare. It was real. And indeed that was not my mother, it was Hannah. I had been awoken from my peaceful dream by the sound of Hannah being murdered. I had witnessed her being killed and then drifted of back into sleep.

The utmost powerful feeling of loneliness stabbed me. I yearned for my uncle's comforting touch and for Emmett's ignorant love. He did not know me. He did not know my past and he did not know what I had down last night. I wanted ignorance right now. I wanted to believe it _was_ a nightmare, merely a nightmare. I wanted to not be Ro.

I fell to my knees, hugging myself in replace of my uncle's, Emmett's, or even my Aunt's arms.

"Madam, are you alright?" The detective asked, bending down beside me.

"I saw it all!" I cried into my arm. "I thought I was just dreaming… b-but it was real, it was _real_!"

"What are you talking about, you poor thing?" My aunt gasped as she rushed towards me.

"Ms. Hatton, will you give us an account of what you witnessed?"

That morning was enough to make me drop dead. It was the soul definition of hell. I had humiliated myself in front of the authorities when I broke down in my chambers, and then I furthered it when I tried to explain what I saw through my sobs. It was exhausting and I found that by noon, I was begging for limbo again. I lay on the couch, wrapped in a thin blanket, staring at the ceiling with drying tears on my cheeks and chin.

The authorities had just made their exit. Aunt was talking to Uncle in the study. They were mighty worried about me and had made sure that the servants were checking up on me every fifteen minutes.

The story would make headlines by tomorrow and I would have to deal with the fresh gossip. Not to mention Aunt. Well, she was a heeder of hearsay, so she might not have had a problem with being the steed of it.

My thoughts returned to last night. I couldn't stop. Every time that I reminded myself a murderer had been not but six feet from me, cold, sharp shivers encase my body. _Why hadn't he touched me? What had Hannah done to deserve such a brutal death? _

"Ms. Hatton?" came one f the Servant's voice.

I rolled my head to the side to look at Mr. Winter.

"Are you well? Perhaps another blanket, you look frightfully cold."

"You are to kind, Mr. Winter. Worry not. I am fine." I reassured him.

"We are almost done with your new quarters, madam."

I was asked to move out of that room as to keep it for further investigation. They were to come by either this evening or tomorrow morning to gather more plausible clues. I was to inhabit our guest room, on the opposite wing. That made me rather glad to know I was far from that room. I knew that now my nights would be even longer and the shadows even more prominent.

"Thank you, Mr. Winter. You've been good to me." I dismissed him with a half smile, not yet capable of a full one.

He gave a small bow and exited the room to finish with the task upstairs.

I sat up, holding the blanket around me so it would not fall. The blood rushed out of my head and for a moment the room was spinning. When the room stilled, I found enough balance to rise the rest of the way. I did not want to be alone anymore, even Mr. Winter's company had been most rewarding and when he left and the silence overtook the room again, I realized how much I desired a fellow soul. I did not, however want to keep Mr. Winter or any other servant from their jobs, for they would fall behind and not earn their pay. So, I decided to seek companionship with my Aunt and Uncle. I wearily traveled down the hall and another corridor to the Study. I knocked once and without a reply, I opened the door, keeping my eyes on the wood flooring. The room was cold despite the flames that lit up the fireplace. Uncle Andy was sitting at his mahogany desk, hand folded on the table in front of him. Aunt was sitting in the high backed, forest green chair in front of him. They looked at me as I came in, stopping mid conversation.

"Oh, Ro!" Aunt greeted with sadness. She stood, arms outstretched for me to walk into.

That's what I had been wanting. I let the blanket drop from my shoulders so I was able to move more freely. I enclosed the distance between us and let her embrace me.

"You have impeccable timing, my dear. We were just about to send word for you." She whispered pulling away. She showed me to her former chair and motioned for me to sit. I heeded her implications. The chair was stiff and it forced me, as it was supposed to, to sit up straight like the lady I had become.

"We need to talk about a few things." Uncle Andy said.

"Of course," I said, letting him know that I was listening.

"We are exceedingly troubled by the events that have now taken place in this house. We understand how greatly disturbed you must be, ergo, we have come up with a suggestion. If you want, we understand if you would like to live with the Kentons for a while. They are good family friends and they have already agreed, if you agree of course." Aunt explained with deep distress. Uncle nodded with approval as his wife recited the plan.

"No! No, I am fine, I assure you." The last thing that I wanted would be being taken away from my only family.

"Rochelle, are you sure?" Uncle Andy pressed.

"I am, sir."

"And this brings us to another point of discussion." Aunt continued. "I was just discussing with your Uncle something of grave concern. I happened to have overheard the policemen discussing the matter, and they compared their findings to the infamous Ripper case. They believe he has returned. Fortunately, this is only a theory. They can't be sure of it, but still, we have reason to fret."

I had read about Jack in the old papers that I found. Father was too lazy to rid the house of all newspapers since mother's death. I would read them late at night. The tabloids spoke with the utmost fearful words of him. I was two when his murderous rampage occurred, but the stories of him never aged. Jack the Ripper had taken five lives, each more brutally done than the other. By the fifth victim, intestines had been strewn everywhere, her abdomen exposed from the inside, and her face carved up almost beyond recognition.

"Wait, that was fifteen years ago, the Ripper would be well into his thirties by now." I protested coming back to reality.

"Well, let's let the professionals take of it." Uncle said dismissing the issue and looking at his wife with warning.

"The point is that if it is, he no longer is bound to the Whitechapel district. Even if it isn't him, we have no reason to not suspect he won't kill again." Aunt continued, ignoring her husband. I waited for her to finish. I did not know where she was going with this.

"We need to minimize our vulnerability. We cannot allow you to be absent so late, like the other night, Ro. It's too dangerous to be wondering the streets at night."

I wasn't devastated to learn this. It was not my worst fear; it just meant that these walls were going to be even more of a prison to me. I would not be able to completely escape the haunting memory of the events that happened in my prior room.

"Yes, ma'am," I said obediently.

"Now, what say you about getting some lunch? Maybe that can get our minds of such morbid thoughts." Aunt said optimistically.

That night had been the worst of every night combined. I would be lucky to be accurate on my assumption that I got not but five hours of light sleep. The room was so much different, ergo all the shadows were very unfamiliar and twice as menacing as before. I kept thinking there was someone else in the room with me. Not to mention that the images that painted themselves on the back of my eyelids were more terrifying than my usual ones tenfold. At one point in the night when my claustrophobia kicked in and the familiar feeling of being suffocated occurred, I was too miserable to retreat to the window. The worst part was that the suffocation had not put an end to my existence, the ultimate peace.

The next morning Ms. King, my new maid, woke me. She was fraught with worry. She told me I looked direly ill. She helped me out of the bed and to the unfamiliar mirror. She was right. My eyes were lined by dark circles and bags, my skin a sickly color and my lips were not their healthy shade of pink but rather pale.

She laid me back in bed and summoned my Aunt. When she saw me, her face darkened.

"Ro, what is ailing you?" She inquired.

"It is nothing more than a night's sleep interrupted by my own foolish thoughts." I smiled trying to comfort her.

"I'm not going to leave you by your lonesome. You need to be with others. Come downstairs. Ms. King, help her."

We migrated downstairs, where Aunt laid me back on the couch in the front room. She lit a fire and covered me with another blanket. She promised her return and left to go arrange breakfast to be brought to me, even though I told her I was not hungry.

Aunt returned with Mr. Winter who was carrying a platter with a much too large meal for me. She sat next to me, like any mother would have. She told me she wouldn't leave.

I shoved the food down just so she wouldn't be worried and I forced myself to keep it down. She moved to the chair next to the fire place and began to read her book.

The fire set my face aglow and its warmth was like none other. I basked, like a bird, in its comforting light. It coaxed me into a sleep and it was too tempting to protest.

Three abrupt knocks woke me. I sat up slowly as to not cause a light head. Looking over at the chair by the fire, I noticed Aunt was no longer occupying it. The fire was still in full bloom and setting a homey glow to the room.

_Knock, knock, knock._

I cursed under my breath, damning the soul who woke me. I was still under sleep's spell as I opened the door, not fully aware of what I was doing. If I had my wits about me, I would not have answered the door in my present condition. I looked ridiculous and in no way did I look presentable as a lady or a human being.

"H-hullo?" I asked opening the door. I was surprised that something even came out of my mouth, even if it was broken.

"Good God, Ro. What in the devil's name happened to you?" Emmett's eyes studied my heinous condition.

I was taken by surprise that Emmett was at my door that I could only stare, my mouth open slightly.

"Ro? Can you even hear me?" He tried again.

It was so good to see him. I haven't a clue why though since we ended on such foul terms.

"Yes, of course I can." I said straightened my posture so at least I didn't look so weak that I couldn't hold myself up.

"Ro, as soon as I read the papers I came here. What happened?" He looked so different when he was desperate. He was so troubled.

I had forgotten about the papers… so the story had made headlines. Damn it, just another reason to stay indoors.

"That's… so kind of you, but I can assure you, everything is well."

"The hell it is. Ro, have you looked at yourself? Aside from not being dead, you look the furthest thing from well."

"Thank you for your concern, Emmett, but despite what you think, I am fine." I smiled.

"What happened?" he asked again placing a hand on my shoulder.

I looked at his hand. His touch gave me the warm shivers I had forgotten about.

"Emmett…" I whispered, suddenly aware that people could very well be listening.

"God damn it, Ro. Why won't you tell me?" He asked getting frustrated.

"Because I can't! It's not like I'm telling you about a beautiful picnic in the park!" I half yelled, forgetting about my cautious voice.

"What do you mean?"

I just glared at him, hating him for probing me. He should know better. Suddenly, the images I fought to forget, even for a moment, came rushing back to me with clarity. And, again, I betrayed myself as tears threatened to fall. I looked up at him, loathing his very being.

"Have you no compassion? You are digging at wounds that have not healed!" I warned.

That silenced him. He looked down at me, empathy in his eyes. He gently pulled me into his chest.

"I'm so sorry. I was too worried to think. Forgive me?" He whispered into my ear.

"Of course." I whispered back into his chest.

It felt so good to be held like that. It was different than Aunt's or Uncle's embraces. They were gentle, almost cautious, like they were going to hurt me. But Emmett, while being gentle, was also confident and strong. I could let every muscle relax in my body, going limp, and he could hold me up as if I were still standing on my own two feet. He was like my structure, a support beam.

"Let's get you back to bed. You're freezing." He suggested, pushing me inside.

The moment we stepped foot into the house, I felt uneasy. He should not be in here.

"It's fine. I can put myself to bed. In fact, I was just sleeping here on the sofa."

He looked at the couch and then at me. He ignored my hint and pulled me towards the couch. He helped me sit and despite my protesting, he drooped the blanket back over me.

"You should go now." I said trying hard not to sound desperate.

"Alright. Please, get some rest." He begged.

I smiled at him, silently reassuring him. He bent down and kissed my forehead and then made his leave.

When the door closed, I sighed in relief. If my Aunt Becky had caught him in her home, she would be shrouded in suspicion. I would never be able to leave the house even after this ordeal was over. I'd be on house arrest.

The fire was still strong and warm, just like Emmett's embrace had been. I smiled. Maybe he wasn't so selfish. He had been genuinely concerned for another living soul… I was damned and I knew it…

A/N: Ok so now here comes the mystery, so watch out! I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, I know the last one was really long… sorry about that. Anywho, thanks to those of you who left reviews! I know I say that every time, but it really means that much to me. Thanks again!!


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